Shadows of the Mind
by TweetyPie85
Summary: A month before her wedding, Michaela is injured in a train accident & wakes up in Boston to find she has forgotten 3 years of her life. The last thing she can recall is getting on a train to Colorado Springs determined to be a doctor on the frontier.
1. Chapter 1

The moon was high in the sky, its beams illuminating the rugged terrain that defined the Colorado territory. A gentle breeze stirred the tree leaves momentarily before silence was again restored. Not a creature disturbed the sanctity of the night and one could easily have missed the two figures perched on the top most step of a wooden homestead, as still as statues, their shadows blending into the darkness.

A small timepiece above the mantelpiece within the homestead struck midnight and the fire in the grate had burnt low, yet the two characters outside remained oblivious, motionless.

Michaela's head was tucked under Sully's chin, his arm wrapped around her waist pulling her close to him while his other hand lay clasped with hers in her lap. Gently, Sully stirred and glanced at Michaela. She made a slight movement and burrowed closer to him. Sully smiled and watched as Michaela slowly opened her eyes and smiled back at him. The couple looked so comfortable as they sat intertwined together that an outsider might have suspected they were husband and wife. In truth, Sully and Michaela were living out the last few weeks of their engagement and neither could wait for the day that would unite them, heart and soul forever.

It was with some regret that Sully pulled away from Michaela, knowing that he was putting an end to his last evening with his fiancée for two weeks. The morning would bring the stage that Michaela would board to take her back to Boston and the medical conference that she had been so excited about for days.

Sully smiled as he recalled how she had come racing to the new homestead barely reigning her horse in time and jumping out of the saddle before Flash had even come to a stop.

" _Sully! Sully!" she had panted, waving a piece of paper frantically._

_He had come running at the sound of hoof beats his heart pounding as he registered her flushed face, initially terrified that something had happened, with the kids, in town, to Michaela…_

"_What happened?" he said as he grabbed her arms._

"_Oh Sully! It's the most amazing thing!" she explained jubilantly. "There's a medical conference in Boston and I have been invited to attend. It's going to be a collection of the finest physicians sharing their knowledge of current advances in medical therapies! This could be an excellent opportunity for me to try and improve the care I can give my patients in the clinic."_

_Sully let go of her arms and stared at the ground, trying to absorb what Michaela was saying._

"_Sully?" Michaela looked at him questioningly._

"_How long will you be gone for?" he answered, slowly looking up to meet her gaze._

"_Just two weeks. I can leave tomorrow and will be back a whole month before the wedding and perhaps I can persuade Mother to travel with me" she explained. She waited a minute before dropping her gaze, disheartened by Sully's lack of enthusiasm to the idea. "If you really don't want me to go Sully, then I wont"_

_Sully looked at Michaela's face that had lost the sunshine and radiant happiness of her arrival and was now suddenly childlike, doubtful and vulnerable. How could he possibly refuse her something that would make her so happy?_

"_No, it's fine Michaela, you should go. I want you to go." He reached out and took both her hands, drawing her closer to him. "I'm marrying a fine doctor and I couldn't be prouder of her." He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead._

"_Thank you Sully" Michaela whispered "Your opinion means everything to me."_

"_Come on then Dr Quinn," Sully added, "lets get you home, you have to pack." _

"Sully?"

Michaela's voice brought him back to the present and he registered her looking at him with some concern.

"Sorry guess I was day dreaming" he said. "Anyway, it's gettin late, time I was getting goin"

"Thank you Sully, for sitting with me" Michaela added as she rose to stand next to him on the steps, "And for agreeing to help out with the children."

"Any time Michaela" Sully whispered, "Besides, in about two months they're gunna be my family too"

"Two months" repeated Michaela slowly and a smile started to spread across her face.

"Can hardly wait" Sully voiced the opinions of both their hearts and leaned over to kiss her gently before adding softly "G'nite"

"Good night Sully" replied Michaela as she watched him stride off down the lane and into the darkness. She waited until she was sure he had gone before sighing softly to herself and re-entering the homestead to catch a few hours of sleep before day break.

The next morning passed in a whirlwind fashion as the children got ready for school, Michaela prepared breakfast and then helped Matthew to load her things into the wagon. The mood was sombre on the ride into town and Michaela was acutely aware that the children were dreading the separation as much as she was. However, as she drew the horse to a halt outside the clinic and descended carefully, she smiled brightly and called the children over to say goodbye. The children had agreed the night before that they would say their goodbyes before heading off to school and, as the stage coach was scheduled to leave at 9 o'clock anyway, Michaela had maintained there was no reason why they should miss out on valuable learning time. Nonetheless, Brian did not dismiss a final chance to get out of school.

"Are you sure we can't stay and see you off Ma?"

"No Brian," Michaela said firmly, "I don't want you to miss anything important! And besides, I am only going for two weeks and I will be back before you know it. I am sure you'll have lots of fun with Sully."

"Do ya think he might take me fishing?" Brain added hopefully, his young face alight with excitement.

"Course I will Brian, whenever you like." Sully had seen the family gathered at the clinic and had arrived just in time to hear Brian's comment.

"Thanks Sully! Bye Ma" Brian said as he grabbed his mother in a quick hug before setting off in the direction of the school house, the idea of fishing sufficient distraction from his mother's departure and no doubt his early morning lessons.

Colleen rolled her eyes as she approached her mother and embraced her. "Bye Ma, take care of yourself and don't worry about the clinic. I'll come by after school to make sure everything's ok."

Michaela returned Colleen's embrace with warmth. "Thank you Colleen but make sure you have some fun while I'm away and look after the boys. All three of them" she added mischievously with a glance at Sully.

Colleen giggled and drew away to make room for Matthew.

"Bye Dr Mike" said Matthew giving her a quick kiss on the cheek "and don't worry I'll keep an eye on Colleen and Brian for ya"

"Thank you Matthew, I know I can rely on you." Michaela gazed proudly at her eldest son. "Don't forget to say goodbye to Ingrid for me."

"Count on it" replied Matthew as he walked with Colleen towards the school house. A short distance away, the pair turned back and waved before turning away again. Michaela waved and sighed softly as she watched her children, remembering the awkward few weeks as she had tried to get to know them after Charlotte's sudden demise and how they had slowly grown to be a very special part of her heart.

Another very special part of her heart placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her gently towards him. Michaela hesitated and took a deep breath. She had been dreading saying goodbye to Sully, even though she knew she would be back in two short weeks. Since they had begun courting, so many obstacles had prevented them from being united, yet recently it seemed like their hearts had been truly open to each other and for Michaela this had brought a revelation. Sully's love had kindled the darkened embers of her soul and had made her passion for him burn brighter than ever. For a split second, her heart considered not getting on the stage and leaving Sully but her head soon called her heart to reason and she stood still, biting her lip, unsure of how to say goodbye to the most important person in her life, how to tell him she loved him so dearly and how to explain that she would miss him every second until he held her in his arms again.

As Michaela stood so unsure in front of him, Sully was memorising her elegant features, etching this memory of her into his heart to comfort him during the long nights when she was away; The contours of her chin, the hue of her lips, the curve of her neck and finally, those eyes, those beautiful mismatched eyes that could come alive with vivacity, passion, fire and burn a path into the very core of his being.

Michaela's gaze dropped under his stare and Sully reached for her gloved hand, pulling her towards the clinic door. Well aware of Michaela's dislike of showing affection in public, Sully led her into her sanctuary, away from public view, where he could say goodbye properly.

Once inside, Michaela moved towards her desk, turning away from Sully in an attempt to calm her racing heart and check the tears, she was embarrassed to admit, that were forming at the corners of her eyes. Sully watched her for a minute, knowing full well what was going through his fiancées mind, before he approached her from behind.

"Michaela" he began. She turned in his arms to face him and his hands found their accustomed place on her hips. "I….well ….I just…."

Michaela smiled at Sully's stuttered attempt at farewell and she reached up to caress his cheek. He turned to place a gentle kiss to her palm before leaning forwards to kiss her lips. As the kiss deepened, Michaela placed her arms around Sully's neck, pulling him closer and closed her eyes tight, breathing his scent in deeply and forcing herself to remember just how his arms felt around her.

After a few minutes, Sully drew back and slowly reached up to caress her face. "Be careful Michaela" he whispered "and hurry back to me. I love you."

"I love you too Sully" replied Michaela and after a final hug withdrew and began to walk towards the clinic door.

Suddenly, Sully made a grab at her left hand but missing the fingers, pulled her lace glove off instead. Michaela turned and said laughingly "Keep it. It might look better on you anyway."

Sully grinned as he made his way back over to her.

"But you know, since you took something of mine its only fair if you give me something of yours" Michaela added archly.

"You do have something of mine" said Sully as he reached for her hand. "You have my heart" and so saying, he lifted her hand and kissed the diamond engagement ring that shimmered on her fourth finger.

"Sully…." began Michaela, overcome with emotion, her heart heaving with the love she felt for the man in front of her. Again, she reached for him and drew him so close that she felt his heart beating strongly against her own.

They stood together for a few minutes until the sound of an approaching carriage drew them apart.

Wordlessly, Sully led Michaela outside to the stagecoach that now stood blocking most of the street and signalled to one of the men to load up Michaela's things.

"Goodbye Dr Quinn" he said, as he helped her up into a seat, a slight smile lightening his features.

"Goodbye Sully," replied Michaela, unwilling to release his hand.

"I love you" repeated Sully once again as the stage coach driver shouted out their impending departure, and slowly released her hand and closed the door.

Michaela immediately leant out of the open window to look down at Sully and as the coach began to move she waved frantically.

A gust of wind robbed her of her last words and before she could repeat them, the stagecoach had turned a corner and Sully was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2:**_

Michaela settled back in her seat, her mind brimming with emotion and memory. As she chanced to glance down, she noticed her right hand was still gloved but her left was bare revealing her engagement ring. Slowly, she removed the glove and lifted it up to her face. She smiled to herself, remembering Sully's expression of bewilderement as he stood, her left glove clasped in his hand. A feeling of immense pride washed over her as she recalled Sully's words, naming her the guardian of his heart and she sighed softly, wishing she had told him that she felt the same way, that she could never have trusted her heart to anyone less gentle, passionate, honourable. "Perhaps, she thought to herself, "I can send him a telegram from St Louis so that he knows, so he will always know". And with that thought, she closed her eyes, drifting off to revel in her memories and while away the long hours of the journey.

Sully stood rooted to the spot for a full minute after the stage coach had departed, Michaela's glove clasped tightly in his hand. It seemed surreal that after such a long time, he was left alone again. Of course, Michaela would be back in two weeks he told himself, but in those moments as Sully turned away to glance at the clinic door, his heart felt emptier than it had a long time. He half expected the door to suddenly open and Michaela to come striding out, smiling brightly and welcoming him into her arms. But as he stared, and the door remained motionless, the reality slowly began to sink in. She had really gone. "Two weeks is such a long time" he thought to himself, "was I out of my mind agreeing to her leaving?" Yet even as this thought crossed his mind, the vision of Michaela running towards him, her face alight with excitement overshadowed it and he knew he could never stand between her and her destiny. "A true medicine woman" he thought with a smile.

Only then did it occur to him that he couldn't spend all day hanging around the clinic especially as Michaela was no longer there. Taking a deep breath, he stepped down from the clinic porch. He knew he would have to be back to pick the kids up after school but that wouldn't be for a while. Leaving the wagon parked outside the clinic, Sully walked slowly out of town, heading for the solitude of the woods, unaware of the knowing stares of the many townsfolk gathered outside the general store. There was much whispering and speculation regarding the Sully-Quinn relationship before the demands of daily life forced the crowd to disperse and only the lone figure of the taciturn store keeper remained, darkening the doorway of the store.

The station at St Louis was draughty and filled with the acrid smell of burnt out coals. Michaela tried not to breathe too deeply as she sat, almost frozen in her chair, waiting for the train that would bear her to Boston. She found herself almost guiltily longing for the warm fire in the parlour and the bed with feather pillows at Beacon Hill. In an effort to take her mind off the cold, she turned her thoughts to her children. "They will just be cleaning up after supper, she thought, "arguing over who should do the washing up and laughing about the antics of their colleagues in school." She smiled as she thought of Sully trying to be the responsible adult and get the kids in to bed on time when really he was just as bad as they were. Yet she trusted Sully beyond anyone she had ever known and it comforted her to know that Sully would brave any danger if it could prevent harm coming to her or her children. "He will be a wonderful father" she thought subconsciously, then suddenly blushed as she realised the implications of her thoughts. It was a welcome relief when the train pulled into the station and Michaela hurried aboard to claim a small compartment for herself. "Almost home" she thought happily, "I'm almost home."

Sully stood by the window in the homestead looking out into the gathering darkness. Silence finally reigned although much later than it usually did. It had proved particularly difficult getting the kids into bed; their mother's absence seemed to have made them much rowdier than usual. Sully was filled with a new respect for Michaela. She always had things under control, strictly maintaining the kids' routine but still so sensitive to their needs and always ready to lend a hand with school work or provide comfort when the trials of growing up proved too much for them to handle alone.

"I can't wait to see her with our kids" Sully thought, a smile spreading over his face as he imagined having a baby with his beautiful fiancée. Yet at the same time, he reached up placing his fingers over his temples and his smile turned into a grimace. Pressure had been building up inside his head all afternoon and in the solitude of the night it seemed to be making its presence known with a vengeance. Quietly, Sully opened the door to the homestead and stepped outside pulling it shut behind him, hoping the fresh air would alleviate the pain that now pulsed against his skull. He sat down on the steps, in the same place that he had sat with Michaela not so many nights ago, and put his head in his hands. Breathing deeply, he tried to will the pain away but it hung on with a ferocity that made him nauseous and it wasn't long before he felt beads of sweat trickle down his neck and collect on his chest, dampening his thin shirt.

"Michaela…." he moaned softly, clutching his head in an iron grip and collapsing against a wooden pillar.

As Sully lay shivering, absorbed by his pain, a pair of hawks rose high in the sky, circling the trees just beyond the border of the homestead, calling softly to each other. Suddenly, a shot rang out, the noise deadened somewhat by distance, and with a piteous caw, one of the hawks fell, landing with a soft thump on a pile of leaves. Sully remained oblivious to the event that had just occurred, so completely overwhelmed was he by the pain that threatened to split his very head in two. Yet, a pair of eyes did observe it and even in the darkness, they visibly clouded over with concern before vanishing from sight.

The smoke from the fire settled to reveal the outline of the wisened Medicine Man sitting cross legged, pondering what he had just seen. He was still for a few minutes and then as though filled with sudden resolve, he doused out the still glowing branches and quietly left the tepee, disappearing into the night.

In the last compartment of a speeding train, a lone figure lay against the window, sleeping soundly and wrapped tightly in a shawl. The figure's face was not visible yet the elegant hat that lay discarded on the opposite seat and the coil of copper hair that peaked out from the top of the shawl indicated that the passenger was a woman.

The train unexpectedly jerked violently and the passenger's eyes flew open, darkened with fear. She pushed the shawl off her and tried to stand but was immediately thrown back against the seat as the train continued to shudder. Before she had a chance to react to the pain in her left side as it hit the seat, she was hurled to the other side of the cabin. The train tipped precariously on its track before finally collapsing onto its left side. Inside, the lady passenger cried out as a heavy trunk, dislodged by the vigorous movement, made contact with the side of her skull.

Darkness pulled a heavy blanket over her consciousness and before she was completely smothered, she breathed one final word "Sully…."

Sully raised his head, listening carefully. He could have sworn someone had called his name but as he looked around him he couldn't see anyone near by. Groaning with the effort of lifting his head, he lay back on the homestead porch. Suddenly a well known voice spoke very close to hand, "My brother". Sully looked up with widened eyes and registered the face of his blood brother. "Cloud Dancing," he began, "I…what… are you doin' here?"

Cloud Dancing frowned as his eyes ran over Sully's damp forehead and his hands still clutching his head. "I have come to help you and to warn you" he said sedately as he placed one arm under Sully, supporting him in a standing position.

"Warn….?" muttered Sully but Cloud Dancing just shook his head and led his brother inside. Leaving Sully sitting at the table, Cloud Dancing began boiling some water for a tea to help his brother's headache.

"I do not have Dr Mike's 'white' medicine for your pain but this tea will help reduce it" he said as he passed Sully a hot cup. Drained of strength, Sully merely nodded and accepted the cup gratefully. Cloud Dancing watched as he sipped it, cringing at the bitter taste, and then settled down at the table to wait for the tea to work.

As he waited, Cloud Dancing recalled his vision and this combined with Sully's sudden illness did not bode well. He was almost certain that the two were somehow linked and related to Michaela's absence. On more than one occasion, he had been witness to the almost palpable bond that united the couple, mind and soul. Was it then so impossible that Sully could be suffering the effects of Michaela's pain? And even if this was the case, how could he break Sully's heart by voicing his fears without any tangible evidence? And what if he was mistaken?

"No, he thought finally, "I will not tell Sully what I suspect, simply what I have seen. His heart alone must draw guidance from it."

Half an hour later, Sully, although still paler than usual, was no longer shivering and had regained some of strength. His mind, now much clearer, turned to what Cloud Dancing had said on his arrival. Had there been some news regarding the future of his brother and the tribe he had considered as family for so long? With horror he realised that he hadn't even considered that it might not be safe for Cloud Dancing to be visiting him. Things had certainly been unsettled since Washita and Sully could never survive the guilt if he was found responsible for jeopardising his brother's safety, even if it was unwittingly. His fear must have shown in his face as Cloud Dancing suddenly stood and began to speak.

"Do not be concerned for me Sully. The spirits brought me here tonight for a particular reason."

At this, Sully looked up, interested, and yet worried at the same time. What could possibly be so important that Cloud Dancing had come to him in the middle of the night?

"In a vision I saw you sitting alone, while a pair of hawks circled around, keeping watch over you. As I watched, one hawk was shot down while the other continued to circle, calling over and over for its mate. "

Sully frowned, contemplating what he had just heard. He glanced at Cloud Dancing, who moved to sit beside him again, and got the distinct impression that he was missing the key piece of information he needed to unravel the mystery laid before him.

"I don't understand how…." began Sully but Cloud Dancing was already shaking his head.

"The spirits did not say."

Sully sat in silence, a jumble of thoughts careering around his mind so fast that he could barely think straight. Glancing towards the window, he noted that dawn was not far off. The sky was already lightening, while clouds were rolling back to reveal the beginnings of what promised to be another beautiful day. Cloud Dancing followed Sully's gaze and realised it was time he was leaving. Reaching inside his leather pouch, he pulled out his small, wooden flute and placed it on the table. As Sully glanced from the flute to his brother, questions in his eyes, he said simply, "The spirits say it will be useful."

Reaching for Sully's arm and grasping it tightly in farewell he said softly "Be well my brother."

Sully stood and placed his hand atop Cloud Dancing's.

"Thanks, for everything."

Cloud Dancing merely nodded and walked silently to the door, opened it quietly and, pulling it closed behind him, strode off into a thicket of trees.

Sully turned back to the table where his empty cup lay next to the wooden flute. Still no clearer as to what Cloud Dancing's vision meant, he picked up the flute curiously, fingering the smooth finish, wondering how it could possibly help him. He felt a pang at his heart as he remembered Brian's flute from No Harm and suddenly, in an uncontrollable flood, the memories of Washita poured from his soul, engulfing and threatening to drown him. The faces of his friends, his family swam before him and he sat down, unable to support the weight of the pain. He had never really mourned the loss of his family the pain then being too raw for him to bear and even now, it clawed viciously at his heart. Instead, he recalled, he had suppressed his own hurt and concentrated his efforts into pulling Michaela back from the darkest place he had ever seen her retreat to. Michaela….she was the only reason he had survived the tragedy at all. She had saved him countless times in so many ways; healing his body, piecing his shattered heart back together, reviving his soul.

Unbidden, the idea that maybe Cloud Dancing's vision related to Michaela, flickered in Sully's mind.

"No!" thought Sully angrily, forcing the thought back into the deep recesses of his mind. "Nothing has happened to Michaela. I'd die before I let anything happen to her. I won't lose Michaela!"

This last he spoke aloud, as though attempting to convince himself of the truth of his words.

Restless and agitated, he knew that sleep was now well beyond his reach. Sighing he searched for the coffee pot and putting it on to boil, sat down again at the table, his mind drifting away as he waited for the children to awaken.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3:**_

If Sully was quieter than usual on the journey into town, the children didn't notice it. Unaware of the previous night's occurrences, they were as cheerful as ever. In truth, once Sully had considered the possibility that something had happened to Michaela, he couldn't seem to rid his mind of the idea. As much as he tried to tell himself that he was being ridiculous, that Michaela was perfectly safe, he was unable to still the gripping ache in the pit of his stomach nor control the images of a wounded Michaela that flittered amongst his thoughts.

"What do you think Sully?"

Brian's voice brought Sully back to the present and he noticed they were just entering town; the journey seemed to have taken no time at all.

"What's that Brian?" replied Sully as out of habit, he pulled the wagon to a stop outside the clinic.

"About Ma. D'ya think she's ok?"

Sully sat frozen for a split second, stunned into silence at the boy's question. It was the innocent remark of an uncertain child simply seeking reassurance, but in his present state of mind, Brian's question seemed to verbalise Sully's own doubts and fears.

"Uh," he began, uncertain how to continue, desperately wanting to be able to say what Brian wanted to hear.

"She's _fine_!" Matthew said firmly from behind Sully, "I'll bet she's already at one of her lectures."

"Yeh Brian you know Ma, she'll be in the front row" added Colleen, wrapping her arm around her little brother's shoulders.

Riddled with guilt at not having been able to assuage the young boy's fear, Sully turned to him, forcing a smile.

"Matthew's right Brian, your Ma's just fine. No need to go frettin' bout. So, how's about we go fishin' today after school?"

"Yeh!" exclaimed Brian and prepared to climb out of the wagon.

Chuckling, Sully hopped down easily from the driver's seat and walked around to help the kids out.

"Sully! Sully!"

Sully turned to see Horace running towards him a piece of paper clasped tightly in his right hand.

"What's the matter Horace?" asked Sully, concerned, as the telegraph operator skidded to a halt in front of him, trying to catch his breath.

"I …..got….telegram….its about Dr Mike" he gasped, handing Sully a slip of paper folded in half.

Sully felt his blood run cold and with trembling fingers he opened the piece of paper. The words seemed to swim before his eyes and he scanned it twice before they began to register in his mind.

_Accident…Michaela….hospital….unconscious._

"What does it say Sully? What's happened to Ma?" Brian had just been about to climb out of the wagon when Horace had arrived. Now, he leapt swiftly out and ran to Sully's side, grabbing his arm.

Matthew came up beside Sully and took the telegram from him. His features darkened as he absorbed the contents and then said slowly,

"There was an accident on the train from St Louis to Boston. Aunt Rebecca says that Dr Mike was hurt and taken to the Memorial Hospital. She's unconscious but they are hoping she'll come to real soon. Grandma's there with her now."

Brian flew at his older brother, who quickly enfolded him in an embrace, holding him close.

"I'm real sorry Sully" said Horace sadly.

Sully couldn't meet Horace's gaze. His heart felt as though it was bound in iron chains, making each beat pure agony. Pain as he had never felt before erupted from deep within him and clutched at his throat, threatening to choke him. He barely heard Horace speaking to Matthew as a lone thought lingered in his mind; how could this have happened?

A muffled sob drew his head up and Sully looked into Colleens' tear filled eyes. She was still perched in the wagon, her hands over her mouth, shaking like a leaf. Sully reached out and took her hand, helping her down from the wagon, before pulling her into a hug. Colleen wept against his shoulder and lost for words, he silently stroked her long hair. Seeing Sully comforting his sister, Brian left Matthew and reached for Sully, the person who had stood in the stead of his father for so long.

Matthew watched the three of them, united in their grief and then turned away, ashamed of his own tears. Although his first mother was and forever would be Charlotte Cooper, Dr Mike had come to be a very special part of his life; a guide when he had lost his way, a friend in his loneliness and an inexhaustible

source of hope and encouragement.

Taking a deep breath, determined to be strong for his siblings, he walked over to the telegraph office to book Sully a ticket on the first stage out of Colorado Springs.

Seeing Sully and the Cooper kids huddled outside the clinic, members of the town wandered over to investigate what had happened. Grace and Dorothy were shocked to hear that something had happened to their best friend and offered to help any way they could. Loren took Brian aside, assuring him that Dr Mike would be just fine and even Hank, who had strolled over from the saloon, cigar in hand, looked grave and refrained from making any sarcastic comments, a mark of how serious the situation was. Dr Mike might not have been what the town had been expecting when they had advertised for a doctor, nor had they been quick to trust her but her perseverance and pure heart had quickly gained their allegiance and now her friends couldn't imagine life without her.

"Sully," Matthew called as he made his way through the crowd towards his siblings. "I booked ya a ticket on the stage. It leaves tomorrow morning."

"Thanks Matthew" replied Sully, reaching out and grasping his shoulder.

"But what about us? I wanna see Ma!" Brian and Colleen protested together. Sully exchanged glances with Matthew before bending down in front of them, one hand on each of their shoulders.

"I know ya do. But we don't even know how bad your Ma is. She might have woken up by now and be ready to come home. I'll go ahead and see her and I promise you I'll send a wire the minute I find out anything."

Seeing their utterly unconvinced and almost mutinous faces he added softly,

"D'ya remember what Dr Mike said to ya before she left? She wanted ya to go to school, have fun and not fret about her."

"But Sully," began Brian.

"I know Brian, I know," Sully continued, "but I promise you I'll give her your love and bring her home as soon as I can."

"Sully's right. It's better you stay here until we know more" added Dorothy.

"Aint no need to worry, Michaela'll be back here before we know it, bossing everyone around." Hank spoke for the first time, taking a puff on his cigar and blowing smoky rings at the others.

"Come on kids," said Grace gently, "how about some pie over at the café before you head off to school hmmm?"

Sully nodded and released the kids from his grasp, allowing Grace to usher them ahead of her, Dorothy following close behind. Seeing, the group begin to disperse, Loren and Hank ambled back to their respective establishments, muttering about having customers while the other members of the town returned to their daily errands. Finally, only Sully and Matthew were left.

"Don't worry bout the kids, I'll take care of 'em, and Grace and Dorothy will help out too" Matthew assured Sully.

"I know you will Matthew" replied Sully. He sighed before adding, "I know the kids wanna come with me but at least till I find out how Michaela is, I reckon it's best they stay here."

"It's ok Sully, they'll understand." Matthew nodded his head in understanding, "Just keep us posted."

"Sure" promised Sully. Suddenly, he noticed another piece of paper in Matthew's hand.

"What's that?" he asked curiously.

Matthew handed him the paper

"Horace asked me to give it to you. It's from Dr Mike."

Sully looked up at him quickly, visibly whitening.

"He says it's from St Louis and she must have sent it right before she got on the train" continued Matthew.

Realising that Sully would want to read the telegram in private, he tipped his hat to him and walked off in the direction of the café to join his siblings.

Sully stood motionless, the telegram held in his hand. On one hand he didn't think he could bear to read Michaela's words, that it would break him completely, yet on the other he desperately wanted to know what her last thoughts were, if they were about him, about the two of them.

Curiosity eventually won and taking a deep breath, Sully opened up the telegram.

His breath caught in his throat as he read the words.

_Byron Sully, Colorado Springs,_

_My heart is yours, _

_Forever, Michaela_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4:**_

Michaela lay quite still, waiting for her heart to slow down. Her head felt like it was filled with lead, weighing her whole body down, and her memory was a foggy muddle. Sunshine filtering through the curtains fell on her face, warming it and encouraging her to open her eyes. Yet as she attempted to do so, the light shot a bolt of pain to her brain. Moaning in agony, she tried to move her stiff limbs but was stilled by severe pain radiating from her left side. Tears formed in her eyes as she lay, crippled by the pain, unsure of where she was or what had happened to her.

A rustling close to her bedside alerted her to another person's presence. A gentle hand was lain against her cheek and a voice whispered, "Michaela?"

Michaela recognised the voice but could only moan softly in reply.

"Can you hear me Michaela? Can you open your eyes for me?" the voice continued.

Mustering all her strength, her voice cracking from her parched throat, Michaela managed to speak. "The light…..hurts"

The hand was removed from her face and she heard footsteps hurrying away and then the sound of a heavy curtain being drawn. The footsteps returned and a hand grasped hers as the voice spoke again.

"It's dark now Michaela. Try and open your eyes."

Drawing comfort from the calming tone of the voice, Michaela slowly opened her eyes. This time, there was no pain, only a slight residual ache at the back of her skull. Her eyes roamed over the darkened room, registering the door that stood ajar, the wash stand with a jug and basin and the brown curtains blocking the window from view. She was in the hospital in Boston, but how had she gotten there? The last thing she could recall was sleeping on the train.

Turning her head carefully to the right, the image of her eldest sister gradually swam into view. Her features were haggard and her hair unkempt, as though she hadn't slept in a few days, yet she was smiling and her eyes were filled with tears.

"Oh Michaela" she exclaimed, squeezing her hand tightly, "we were so worried about you."

"What….happened" began Michaela, her voice heavy.

"There was an accident. The train derailed and you hurt your head. Don't you remember?" Rebecca replied as she softly stroked her sister's hair away from her forehead. Michaela slowly shook her head, registering the bandage around it for the first time, the soft gauze brushing against her ears.

"Well, no need to worry now Michaela. Everything's going to be just fine. You'll be up and about soon enough you'll see. Mother will be so relieved" Rebecca continued, assuming her habitually cheerful manner now that Michaela was awake and talking.

"Water…please" murmured Michaela, her arid throat protesting against her speaking at all.

"Of course" said her sister, getting up to fill a glass from the jug on the bedside table. Carefully, she propped her younger sister up and held the glass against her chapped lips. Michaela drank eagerly and feeling revived she lay down, much more comfortable. Her eyelids began to droop as fatigue engulfed her, but she struggled against it; there was so much she still wanted to know. Having returned to her seat beside Michaela, Rebecca watched her sister's eyes slowly start to close, while gently stroking her right hand that lay on the quilt. Suddenly Michaela spoke again.

"Rebecca….can you…. do something for me?"

"What is it Michaela?" asked Rebecca curiously.

"Send…a telegram….to Reverend Johnson.… Colorado Springs" Michaela paused for a minute before continuing.

"Tell him what happened…..they needn't apply for another doctor….I will be there as soon as I can."

"Michaela what do you mean?" said Rebecca worriedly.

"I need this job…..Father wanted me to go….please Rebecca" and so saying, Michaela finally surrendered to sleep.

Rebecca sat motionless in her chair for a moment, utterly shocked. Then, collecting her senses, she hurried from the room, pulling the door quietly shut behind her.

Sully sat back in the stage coach, exhausted yet unable to relax. He had been up the whole night, under pretence of preparing for the journey, but in actual fact he had spent most of the time pacing the confines of the homestead, revelling in the darkness and solitude, memories of his life with Michaela occupying his thoughts. For the first time, he had watched the sun rise with regret. He usually associated the dawn with hope and light, a new beginning, but as he saw the rosy streaks radiating from the East, his heart knew that it heralded the start of a journey that would be filled with pain, fear and darkness.

Parting from the children in the morning had been painful. He recalled their tear stained faces and his heart seemed to heave for them, with them. On their return from town the previous afternoon, they had been quiet, going about their chores out of habit, but as evening drew in, they had become irritable. It seemed that suddenly every task required Michaela's opinion or advice thus accentuating her absence even more acutely. Sully had tried to calm the tension between the children, well aware that they were just venting their emotions at each other, while half wishing that he could join in and scream out the anguish that plagued his soul.

In an attempt to rid himself of more painful thoughts, he closed his eyes. Suddenly, an image of Cloud Dancing appeared in his mind and he thought back to their conversation almost two nights ago. So_ this_ was what the spirits had warned Cloud Dancing about. They had known something was wrong with Michaela and had tried to prepare him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought of the two hawks and then of his beautiful fiancée. As his hand brushed against his pocket, he felt something soft concealed within it. Curiously, he put his hand into the pocket and his fingers immediately contacted what felt like lace. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and a sob caught in his throat as he looked down at Michaela's black glove.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there Michaela. I am so sorry" cried Sully as he lifted the glove up to his face.

"Hold on…" he whispered desperately, "for me, please…..hold on" as the silent flood of tears coursed down his cheeks.

Michaela sat upright in bed, a medical textbook lying open at the chapter on cranial surgery balanced on her knees. She wasn't concentrating on the words in front of her, just staring blankly at the wall ahead, lost in thought. Earlier in the day, the physician in charge of her care, Dr Davis, had come to see her to explain her current condition. His initial condescending attitude and determination to refer to her as Miss Quinn had made Michaela quite furious but surprisingly her mother had come to her assistance and reminded the pompous creature that Michaela's father had been a most prestigious member of the medical faculty and had considered Michaela quite as worthy of her title as he was. Much abashed at having being reprimanded by such a formidable lady, Dr Davis had then proceeded to address her as Dr Quinn and gave her a quite satisfactory and in depth report of her treatment to date.

The content of his explanation was clear enough; the blow she had sustained to her head had caused an accumulation of blood around her brain and surgery had been essential to relieve the pressure. What struck Michaela however was a feeling deep within her, not quite a memory, but so strong that she didn't know what to make of it.

She had done that very procedure before. She was sure of it. In her mind, she could see herself holding the scalpel, her free hand feeling the landmarks for the incision. She could feel her heart bounding against her chest, the sweat collecting on her forehead and an overwhelming sense of fear, fear so intense it threatened to devour her.

"No" she thought suddenly, "it's impossible! I've never been allowed to perform the simplest surgical procedure on account of my being a woman, let alone one so complex. The physicians here only let me practise at all because of Father."

"But then where did these thoughts, these feelings come from?" she continued to muse silently.

Unable to come up with a suitable explanation, she turned to her mother's astonishing behaviour towards Dr Davis. Her mother had always been dead set against the idea of her becoming a physician, despising the effort she put into her studies and the long hours she spent at the hospital, which in her opinion, should have been channelled into finding a suitable husband. What had caused the usually unalterable opinion of Elizabeth Quinn to be completely turned on its head? She had sounded almost proud of her daughter when she had unexpectedly rushed to Michaela's defence, something Michaela had spent most of her life hoping for but had never attained. Till today.

Entirely dissatisfied with herself for being unable to reach a solution to her questions, she turned her attention back to her medical textbook, determined to interrogate Rebecca as soon as she returned from her walk.

Sully hastily gathered his things together as the train pulled into the busy Boston station and it had barely come to a standstill before he jumped off and headed into the crowd of people blocking the passage way between the platform and the exit. Finding himself on the sidewalk, congested with people going about their daily business, Sully suddenly realised he had no idea where the hospital was. In his hurry to leave the station, he hadn't bothered to ask. Heading back inside the station, he stopped the first porter he could find and requested directions. With very little money to spare, he decided not to use a carriage but to walk the mile or so to the hospital. Besides, he usually walked much further back home and the reproving glares from the passer-by's with regards to his attire no longer affected him the way they had on his previous visit.

Just over a half hour later, Sully stood before the wooden doors that led into the main part of the hospital. His hands trembled as he stepped slowly over the threshold, his heart beating twice as fast as normal. Making his way down one of the white washed corridors, he was assaulted by a cocktail of medicinal odours that emanated from the rooms on either side of him. The smell was pungent and oppressive, nothing like that which he had come to associate with Michaela. Her very presence seemed to add an aroma of its own to the heady scent of her remedies, the medicine being as much a part of her as she was of it.

Noticing a nurse walking rapidly towards him, Sully quickened his pace and when she was close enough he spoke.

"S'cuse me, I'm looking for Dr Quinn, Dr Michaela Quinn. I was told she'd be here"

The nurse cast a glance over his fringed leather coat, open at the front to reveal his string of beads and medicine pouch, and his buckskin pants and was clearly unsure as to whether she should help him or not.

Seeing her uncertainty, Sully added "I'm….a friend, a close friend."

"Down the hall, first room on your left" replied the nurse before hurrying off in the direction Sully had come from.

"Thanks" added Sully quietly, but the nurse had already gone. Continuing down the corridor, he wondered how Michaela would look, whether she'd be awake and what he was going to say to her. Just as he reached her half opened door, he paused and sent up a silent prayer to the spirits, his heart terrified of what he was about to see. Steeling himself for the worst, he pushed open the door quietly and peered into the room.

There she lay, her copper hair spread out on the pillow and one hand resting on the quilt, fast asleep. Sully felt his breath catch as his fatigued eyes took in the sight of his fiancée. She was as beautiful as when they had said goodbye, the small bandage on her head the only sign she had been hurt at all. Eyes brimming with tears, he made his way to the chair by her side and took her hand in his. Chaffing it gently, he whispered "Michaela…..it's gunna be ok now…..I'm here…..I'm right here"

Reaching out, he ran his hand across her brow and down her cheek, before leaning in to place a soft kiss to her forehead. The feel of her skin against his lips made him shudder and before he could stop them, the tears of relief began to flow freely.

"She's alive"…..he told himself again and again, "She's alive"

"Mr Sully!"

The imperious voice of Elizabeth Quinn behind him startled Sully and he dropped Michaela's hand in shock. Turning to the door, he saw his future mother in law, one hand clutching a wooden cane with a fierce grip, the other grasping the arm of Michaela's sister, Rebecca.

"Mrs. Quinn," replied Sully politely, promptly standing up but Rebecca interjected.

"Not here mother. Mr Sully, please come outside, we need to talk."

Silently, Sully nodded and followed Rebecca out of Michaela's room, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Mr Sully, I have been expecting your arrival ever since I sent that telegram" began Rebecca, "and no doubt you have lots of questions with regards to Michaela."

"Yeh" said Sully, surprised at her intuition.

"Let's sit," continued Rebecca pointing to two wooden chairs in the hall.

"So, what happened to her?" asked Sully, as soon as he was seated.

"All we know is that the train derailed, no-one can explain how or why. Michaela was in the very last carriage and it took some time to get to her. She was the last person they managed to get out alive. The doctors said that she had hit her head somehow and they had to operate right away."

Pausing, Rebecca looked over at Sully, who had suddenly gone very pale. He hadn't realised just how close he had come to losing Michaela and hearing Rebecca recount the details, made his heart ache with a mixture of anguish and relief.

"Mr. Sully…" said Rebecca, concerned.

"I'm fine" replied Sully hastily, "so did the surgery go ok? I mean is Michaela's gunna be alright?"

"Yes, the surgery was a success and Michaela recovered consciousness two days ago. She has been talking a little and had a short walk about today."

Sully glanced at Rebecca. Despite giving Sully what was, in his opinion, good news, her expression was grave, almost sad.

"What aint ya tellin' me?" he asked.

Meeting his confused glance, Rebecca sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry to say this Mr Sully, but you can't see Michaela any more."

"Wha….what?" gasped Sully disbelievingly.

"I know how much you care about her but believe me it's for the best" replied Rebecca softly.

"For the best? What do you mean _for the best_? I love Michaela and I'm gunna stay right here with her and you aint gunna stop me" retorted Sully jumping up, his voice getting progressively louder as he spoke.

"But Mr Sully, if you'll just hear me out…." attempted Rebecca but Sully was already marching towards Michaela's door.

Just as he was about to turn the handle, the door opened and Elizabeth Quinn came striding out looking furious.

"Mr Sully, how dare you make such an unholy racket! Now is _not _the time for a display of such uncouth behaviour."

"Then let me in to see Michaela" replied Sully.

"I'm afraid that is impossible" said Elizabeth, tightening her grasp on her cane.

"What do you mean _impossible_? She's right through there" said Sully, pointing through the door that stood ajar.

"What my daughter, I presume, was trying to relate to you before your outburst, is that Michaela has no recollection of her life from the day she stepped on the train bound for Colorado Springs three years ago" answered Elizabeth coldly. "You can not possibly see her because she doesn't remember you."

Sully stood stock still, stunned by what he had just heard. Michaela had forgotten her life, her children, she had forgotten him….

Even as he thought it, his mind rebelled against the idea. Michaela would never forget him! That was just insane! They were meant to be together forever!

"No!" he shouted, "I don't believe it! I won't believe it!"

"Michaela! Michaela!" called out Sully desperately as Dr Davis, attracted by the commotion and quickly realising the cause, grabbed him by the arm and led him firmly away.

His final shout echoed down the empty corridor and inside her room, Michaela jerked awake.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5:**_

Slowly she opened her eyes and looked around her in confusion. She could have sworn that someone had been calling her name. Calling it so determinedly, desperately, in a voice that was laced with torment and grief and made her feel as though her very response to it would make all the difference; whether it would retain the bitter tones of the present or be filled with joy and laughter.

The timbre of the voice echoed in Michaela's mind and reverberated through to the core of her being. It was so familiar, so close to her heart and yet her brain, though searching frantically, couldn't determine who it belonged to. Saddened, Michaela closed her eyes again, when unexpectedly an image crossed her mind. She was being held tightly, in a grip that was almost painful, on a horse that was bounding away. Her body was tense, frozen by fear and the she heard it; the same voice that had woken her from her sleep. It called out her name again in that same desperate tone, only this time it added the words, "_I will find you."_

Sully struggled relentlessly against Dr Davis's grip, which regarding his small stature, was remarkably strong and unyielding. Leading him to the back of the hospital into a small garden, Dr Davis finally released him. Wilderness had long since conquered the few flower beds scattered around the border, which now lay devoid of bloom and a small metal bench, once used by doctors and patients alike, had clearly been forgotten about and had rusted over.

Sully moved to the bench and sat down, his head in his hands. Although slightly embarrassed at having frogmarched a complete stranger out of the hospital, Dr Davis approached Sully and said quietly, "Are you an acquaintance of Dr Quinn?"

Sully looked up, his features reflecting not the fury of moments ago, but extreme fatigue. The fire in his eyes had petered out and they were calm, almost indifferent.

"Yeh, she's…was my fiancée"

Dr Davis noted Sully's correction to his statement and filled with compassion for the man, he sat down beside him.

"I can not imagine this is easy for you to grasp." he began sedately. "Please allow me to explain her condition to you more concisely. Dr Quinn is suffering from what we call amnesia, a loss of memory. I believe it is partly a consequence of the head trauma she received and partly due to our delay in treating her."

Noting Sully's expression of deepening sadness, he added hastily.

"However, she continues to make excellent progress with regards to her physical health and I believe it will only be a short time before her memories return. This is usually the case in such situations"

"But what if she don't? What if she never remembers?" Sully voiced his fear in a low whisper.

"There is no reason to presume the worst, Mr… Sully is it? From what I have seen, Dr Quinn is a very determined young woman and I doubt she will rest until she rediscovers every aspect of what she has lost."

In spite of himself, Sully smiled, remembering the way Michaela's eyes positively blazed when she was determined to do something, "and when she looks like that" he thought "there's no stoppin' her."

"I must remind you however, that Dr Quinn _is _still recovering," Dr Davis continued, "She is currently taking laudanum to ease the lingering pain from her head wound and the bruises on her left side but more than anything, she needs bed rest and peace and quiet. I request you most earnestly not to disturb her."

As Sully made to interject, Dr Davis raised his hand.

"You must understand that any sudden revelation of information regarding her past, any shock to her mind, may have very severe consequences to her progress. She may even lose more of her memory. If you truly love her," he added softly, "you'll stay away. At least for the time being."

Deciding to give Sully some time to absorb what he had heard, Dr Davis rose and made his way back into the hospital, leaving Sully alone with his thoughts.

"Colleen! Brian!" Matthew shouted as he bounded up the clinic porch and burst through the door. Since Sully's departure, the children had been unwilling to stay at the homestead alone so they had been occupying the recovery rooms above the clinic, occasionally returning during the day to pick up any items they had inadvertently left behind but never staying long. Matthew went back every morning to tend the animals and check everything was in order before returning swiftly to town.

He usually stopped at the telegraph office to check if there had been any news from Sully, but so far he had been disappointed. Today however, after many days of waiting, Horace had handed him a slip of paper with a smile before turning back to the stack of mail he was sorting.

Thanking him profusely, Matthew had hurried back to the clinic knowing that his siblings were just as eager as he was to hear about their Ma.

"What is it Matthew?" asked Colleen emerging from the staircase, hairbrush in hand and Brian at her shoulder.

"Telegram. It's from Sully" replied Matthew, holding up the piece of paper.

"What!" exclaimed Colleen, rushing to her brother's side with Brian close behind.

"What's it say Matthew?" asked Brian pulling on Matthew's arm.

Matthew carefully opened the piece of paper and read aloud:

_To Matthew, Colleen and Brian,_

_Sorry I haven't written earlier. Have seen Michaela. She is doing good, walking around, talking and refusing to stay in bed._

At this point Matthew paused, grinning at his siblings, all three of them well aware of Michaela's intense dislike of being fussed over.

"What else?" demanded Brian and Matthew turned his attention back to the telegram.

_Aunt Rebecca and Grandma taking good care of her. Hope to have her home soon._

_Take care of yourselves_

_Love, Sully_

"Thank god" exclaimed Colleen, "it sounds like she's gunna be alright!"

"Course she is, I told you she would be" replied Matthew reassuringly, reaching out to embrace both his siblings. "Now if you hurry we can get some breakfast at Grace's before school."

Colleen and Brian ran off upstairs and ten minutes later, the three of them set off for the café, laughing as they imagined Grandma and Sully battling with their exceedingly stubborn mother.

Sully stepped out of the telegraph office onto the sidewalk, just as a light breeze began to pick up. It had been two days since his arrival but he had been so disheartened by his first visit to the hospital that he had refrained from wiring the children until he had decided just how much he was going to tell them. He knew he would eventually have to tell them the truth about Michaela's condition, but Sully couldn't face that task yet, not when his own heart hadn't even accepted it as reality.

Pulling his coat closer around him, he headed off in the direction of the hospital. After much thought and hours of aimless wandering, Sully had come to the conclusion that Dr Davis had been right. His first duty was to make sure Michaela got well and if that meant he had to leave her be, then he had begrudgingly accepted that that's what he'd have to do. However, not quite able to cut himself off from her completely, he had returned daily to the small garden behind the hospital where he sat for hours on end, immersed in his thoughts and comforted that he was at least as close to Michaela as he could be.

Making his way slowly to his haunt, Sully's mind turned to his first visit to Boston.

After Michaela and the children had left Colorado Springs, he had retired to the woods, fooling himself that now that the kids had left, he had no reason to visit town, that he only ever went there as a service to Michaela, helping her out through a sense of duty. Yet in the solitude of the long nights, alone, he had confronted his heart and found that in actual fact, Michaela had become a very special part of his life, one that he was unwilling to forego. He had rushed to Boston, determined to tell Michaela how he felt yet his arrival had not been well received. His heart suddenly filled with pain as he recalled Michaela's attention to the young Dr Burke and the harsh words they had exchanged when he had suddenly decided to leave and return home. Back in Colorado, every day had been pure torture as he waited to hear about Michaela, if she was coming home or if she had taken William up on his proposal. After all, William had so much more to offer her than he did. But she had come back, professing her love to him alone and so with a kiss of promise, their courtship had begun.

Crossing the garden and settling down cross legged in his customary seat, Sully thought back over the many trials that had since tested his courtship with Michaela; Catherine, David, the new homestead and then just recently, Washita. Yet, through it all they had managed to find their way back to each other, their very souls determined that nothing would keep them apart. And now, thought Sully sadly, in the face of such adversity, would they ever be able to find their way back to each other?

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the flute Cloud Dancing had given him. Raising it to his lips he began to play, pouring his pain, his fear and more than anything, his love into the notes of the ancient melody.

Michaela sat in bed, a medical journal occupying her full attention, the open window allowing the occasional breeze to rustle the pages. Suddenly, a sound caught her ear and she looked up, listening intently. The sound was renewed and Michaela discerned the strains of a song, carried on the breeze. She was struck by the beauty of the music that seemed to creep into her soul and awaken her whole being. It was as if someone was talking to her heart and she desperately wanted to reply but couldn't find the words. Intrigued, she stepped into her slippers and drawing a shawl around her shoulders, stole quietly out of her room. The music guiding her, she walked down one corridor and another, gradually realising she was heading towards the back of the hospital. When she finally reached the doorway to the small garden, she paused, observing the figure seated on the bench with curiosity. He was bent over, a curtain of wavy, golden brown hair shading his face from view. His fringed jacket and moccasin boots were decidedly Indian yet Michaela was puzzled to note his skin which, though tanned by the sun, was clearly white. The figure was completely absorbed by his song and she stood unobserved for several minutes, the music filling her mind with a refreshing serenity.

A slight shuffling sound behind him suddenly alerted Sully to someone else's presence and he lowered his flute, his gaze turning to the entrance of the garden. His eyes widened as an amber-green pair stared straight back at him.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6: **_

Sully sat motionless, hardly believing what he was seeing. Michaela stood before him, clad in a thin nightdress with a patterned shawl covering her shoulders. Her long hair was loose, flowing down her back and framing her pale, heart shaped face. Yet even as he stared at her, he saw the subtle difference. Her eyes, which were usually bright and overflowing with love, were shuttered. She didn't know him and though he longed to reach out to her, touch her, embrace her, he checked his emotions and finally dropped his gaze.

Even after Sully looked away, Michaela continued to watch him. When he had looked up at her, the bright blue of his eyes had captured her attention and she couldn't help thinking how starkly they contrasted with his darkened skin and sun kissed hair. She had felt herself blushing under his gaze that was so intense it seemed to see right through her, yet she found herself unwilling to break the momentary connection between them. It was with regret that she saw him turn from her and with a sudden boldness, she walked slowly towards him.

"Please, don't stop. That song is so beautiful….but so sad" she said quietly.

Sully paused for a moment before pocketing the flute again and replying softly, "Thanks…."

"May I join you?" asked Michaela pointing to the space next to Sully on the bench.

"Sure" said Sully, moving over a little to make more room for her. She seated herself carefully and turned towards him. She was so close he could almost smell her fragrance and feel her hair brushing against his shoulder. Swallowing hard, he moved a little further away making the space between them bigger. Michaela however, didn't seem to notice and continued her questioning.

"Where did you learn to play so well?"

"I spent some time living with the Cheyenne Indians and my blood brother taught me a lot 'bout their way of life" answered Sully cautiously, careful to avoid her gaze.

"Did he teach you that song?" asked Michaela curiously.

"Yeh….he used to play it in memory of his wife" Sully said, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he remembered the last time he had seen Snow Bird, breathing her last in his brother's arms.

Michaela saw his features cloud over and her voice softened.

"I'm sorry."

Sully simply nodded, unsure of what he could say or if he even wanted to say anything at all.

"I can leave if you like" she continued.

"No" replied Sully quickly, looking up to meet her glance and smiling slightly "it's alright."

Michaela smiled back shyly before asking, "So, who were you playing the song for?"

Sully sighed softly before whispering coarsely, "My soul mate."

"What happened to her?" said Michaela, inwardly ashamed of her unrelenting interest but somehow she was drawn to this man. He was such a puzzle that she just couldn't make him out.

"I …..lost her…." answered Sully slowly, grimacing at the irony of his statement.

"I'm sorry, I've upset you" said Michaela, embarrassed. Standing up quickly and pulling her shawl around her tightly she added "I better be going before my mother realises I have been outside again."

Sully almost smiled.

As she turned to leave, he suddenly spoke. "Here take it."

Michaela turned to see the stranger holding out his flute. Her eyes widening she breathed "No, I couldn't. It's yours!"

"I want you to have it. It's a gift" replied Sully smiling.

Reaching out to take the flute, Michaela's fingers contacted Sully's momentarily and a bolt of electricity surged through them both. Shocked, she pulled her hand away, the flute clutched tightly in her grasp.

Taking a step back, she felt her heart racing and as she looked into Sully's eyes she thought she caught a sudden expression of longing, but before she could be sure of it, it had been buried under a cover of indifference.

Realising she hadn't thanked the stranger for the gift, she smiled slightly as she spoke.

"Thank you….but aren't I supposed to return a gift with a gift?"

"What?" said Sully astonished.

Michaela suddenly looked puzzled.

"I'm sorry…..I don't know why I said that. I…I must be going" and she ran back through the garden into the safety of the hospital.

Sully stood looking after her, stunned at what he had just heard. There could be no mistake; Michaela could never have known about the Cheyenne custom unless she was starting to remember. His face breaking into a smile, he fell to his knees and offered a prayer of thanks to the spirits. His Michaela was in there somewhere and this time he wasn't going to leave, he was going to stay and fight to bring her back home to him.

Michaela didn't stop running until she reached her room. She pulled the door shut behind her and promptly collapsed on the bed, the flute still clutched tightly in her hand, sobbing. Ever since she had regained consciousness, she had felt that there was something she had been missing, a vital piece of information she had yet to discover. The attitude of her mother and sister, even Dr Davis had been puzzling enough but now, assaulted by images and sounds that she could make neither head nor tail of, Michaela was utterly bewildered. It felt like there was another person living inside her, forcing its memories into her mind and constantly pushing her of the way.

"What's happening to me..." she cried softly, curling up into a ball. Opening up her hand, she looked down at the smooth, wooden flute. It suddenly struck her that she hadn't even found out the stranger's name. It hadn't seemed to matter at the time. She had felt so at ease with him, as if she had known him all her life. But that wasn't possible, she thought, she had never met anyone quite like him before. Groaning slightly, her mind completely entangled, Michaela closed her eyes, tears continuing to leak from under the lids and trickle down her cheeks. Gradually, she calmed down and feeling drained, she succumbed to sleep.

Sometime later, Michaela awoke and sat up in shock. Realisation washed over her as she recalled the voice that had awakened her two days ago. It was the same as the stranger's she had met in the garden.

Sully stood outside the Quinn residence in Beacon Hill, hesitating. On leaving the hospital, he had been resolved about what he now had to do to help Michaela but he knew he couldn't do it alone, he needed help. Although Mrs Quinn had never been particularly welcoming towards him, he was certain that if it was a question of helping Michaela, she wouldn't turn him away. Even so, doubt still filled his mind and stayed his hand from reaching for the polished silver knocker. How long he stood there, indecisive, he didn't know, when unexpectedly, the door opened. Rebecca stepped over the threshold, her eyes widening as she noticed Sully standing there.

"Mr Sully" she began "what are you doing here?"

"I…." started Sully, suddenly feeling very foolish at having been found standing on the doorstep.

"Rebecca! Who are you speaking to?" The commanding voice of Mrs Quinn echoed around the large hallway and Rebecca started.

Glancing momentarily at Sully she said "You had better come in."

Ushering him through the door and shutting it behind him, she motioned to Sully to follow and preceded him swiftly into parlour.

Mrs Quinn sat in a large arm chair by the fireplace, a piece of embroidery nestled on her knee and her hand holding the needle poised in mid action. As Rebecca entered the room, she looked up at her enquiringly.

"Who was at the door?"

Rebecca shifted slightly and Sully came into view. Mrs Quinn's brow furrowed and she stood slowly, placing her embroidery on a small round table to her right.

"Mr Sully" she said coldly, "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Sully swallowed hard. After his behaviour at the hospital, he had been expecting a frosty reception however Mrs Quinn's very presence seemed to add a sting to the words that would have cowed many a lesser man. Bracing himself for the worst, Sully answered.

"I'm sorry to intrude like this Ma'am but I came about Michaela."

"Yes," replied Elizabeth, an icy smile on her face, "you rarely stand on ceremony, do you Mr Sully?"

Sully grimaced as he recalled his first visit to Boston. In his desperation to see Michaela, he had burst unceremoniously into the dining room where the whole family had been having dinner. Although Elizabeth had not voiced her disapproval at the time, he had been certain that at some point she would. He had been right.

Noticing Sully's discomfort, Rebecca decided to intercede.

"Mother, Mr Sully has come because of Michaela. Surely we should hear what he has to say."

"Naturally" said Elizabeth somewhat sarcastically, as she sat back down in her chair. "What is it that you have to say Mr Sully?"

Taking a deep breath, Sully answered.

"Michaela's startin' to remember."

Elizabeth paled visibly and grasped the sides of her chair convulsively. Whatever she had been expecting Sully to say, that had not been it. Beside him, Sully heard Rebecca gasp and turning to look at her, he noticed that her face too had assumed a chalky white. Taking her arm, he guided her to a chair next to her mother and then stood before them.

"I didn't mean to scare ya but I thought ya needed to know."

Rebecca stared wordlessly at him but Elizabeth, recovering some of her dignity asked sternly, "Are you certain?"

"Yeh," replied Sully, "she said things that only Michaela would know. Things she would have to have remembered."

As the implications of his words registered with Elizabeth, she was suddenly filled with fury and burst out, "What? You saw her! When we _explicitly_ told you not to!"

"No!" answered Sully, equally angrily and glaring at Mrs Quinn "She found me outside the hospital! I was just…."

"Mother! Mr Sully!" said Rebecca loudly, standing up "this isn't helping Michaela."

Both her mother and Sully were still staring daggers at each other, so she continued.

"If Mr Sully is right and Michaela has started to remember, she must be terribly confused and angry. We need to decide what to do now, how much we ought to tell her."

Swallowing his anger, Sully turned to face Rebecca. "Seems t'me you ought to speak to her first. She trusts you" he said.

Rebecca nodded in agreement and glanced at her mother. Elizabeth refused to meet her gaze and stared resolutely into the empty fireplace.

Sully watched her for a moment, the resemblance to Michaela suddenly starkly obvious. Elizabeth was afraid, afraid of disappointment, afraid to hope. She had gradually built a wall around herself in preparation for the worst and now, faced with the prospect of Michaela truly recovering, she didn't know what to do.

Sully approached her noiselessly and knelt down in front of her.

"Mrs Quinn," he said softly, "I know how worried you are 'bout Michaela. We all are. But she's gunna be ok, she's gunna remember. We just gotta be there for her, help her along the way."

"She's a strong woman" he added, "just like her ma."

In spite of herself, Elizabeth looked down at her future son in law, and a small smile softened her marble features. Reaching out, she grasped Sully's hand tightly in her own and nodded in understanding. Rebecca watched the exchange between them tearfully; Michaela had truly found a wonderful husband.

"Well now," said Elizabeth suddenly, composing herself. "We must get to the hospital and meet with Dr Davis. He will need to be informed before we tell Michaela anything.

"Rebecca" she continued, turning to her daughter, "tell Harrison to bring the carriage round."

"Yes mother" answered Rebecca before hurrying away.

Alone with Sully, Elizabeth turned to him and said quietly, "I feel I owe you an apology for my earlier behaviour towards you. It was callous and uncalled for."

"I didn't exactly act like a gentleman either" answered Sully apologetically.

"Even so Mr Sully," replied Elizabeth, "I know you have Michaela's best interests at heart. She trusted you implicitly" she paused before adding, "and so do I."

Sully did not know how to reply. Mrs Quinn's opinion of him had always seemed entirely unalterable despite his best attempts to demonstrate his honourable nature and deep devotion to her daughter. Thus, Elizabeth's sudden confession meant the world to him. He finally had the blessing of a mother in his marriage to Michaela, something he hadn't ever dared to hope for. His marriage to Abagail had been against the wishes of her parents and Abagail had spent many a night in tears, longing for the comfort of her family making Sully feel not only guilty but selfish for loving her. To his intense dismay, history had seemed set to repeat itself with Michaela and Sully hadn't known how he could bear to watch Michaela slowly break down the way that Abagail had. _Now_, he thought, relieved, _there's no-one to keep us apart._

Elizabeth smiled at the look of bewilderment of Sully's face.

"You can stay here until we return from the hospital" she said.

Sully nodded his assent and removed his jacket.

"I am sure we will have plenty to discuss on our return" she continued and moved towards the door.

"Good day Mr Sully" she added finally before disappearing into the hall.

Sully waited until he heard the front door close and the sound of the carriage drawing away. Placing his jacket on a nearby chair, he used a few logs to start a fire in the empty grate and settled himself down on the floor to await Elizabeth's return. Inclining his head slightly towards the chair that she had just vacated, he smiled and closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7:**_

Michaela sat with her head bowed and knees pulled up under her chin. Her beautiful hair hung in a tangled mess down her back and her eyes, though blood shot from continuous weeping and threatening to shut from sheer fatigue, were open and oddly blank. She barely heeded the early evening sunshine that penetrated through the still open window and cast sharp shadows on the floor.

As the sun continued its rapid descent, the breeze that had been refreshing earlier in the day became icy and chilled the room, forcibly banishing the warmth from the last rays of sunlight. Yet Michaela sat, motionless, her mind staunchly ignoring her body's reaction to the cold, the blanket remaining in a pool around her bare feet.

It was on this scene that Mrs Quinn and Rebecca entered. Rebecca's mouth widened in shock as she momentarily registered her sister's condition before immediately hurrying over to the window. She pulled it shut and drew the curtain over it in an attempt to seal in any remaining heat, then turned to Michaela. Noticing a shawl lying on the floor, Rebecca picked it up and draped it carefully over her sister's shoulders, rubbing her bare arms vigorously as she did so.

"Michaela….."she said softly, trying to illicit a response but there was none. Michaela continued to stare unseeingly at the wall in front of her. Rebecca glance helplessly up at her mother. She had never seen Michaela in such a state before and frankly she was frightened.

Elizabeth had been observing her youngest daughter with a careful eye. Michaela had retreated further into herself that was clear and Elizabeth was not at a loss as to the reason why. Approaching her side, Elizabeth realised that a firm hand would be needed to pull her daughter back into reality. Standing before her with a rigid posture, she said in a steely voice, "Michaela Anne Quinn, that is _enough_."

Rebecca's jaw dropped as she heard her mother chiding her sister so harshly and was about to protest on Michaela's behalf when she caught her mother's glance and fell silent. Her gaze shifted to her sister, and she was astounded to see her shift slightly from her previous position.

"You are angry and confused Michaela. You have every right to be" continued Elizabeth in the same tone, "but that is no excuse for this pathetic display of self pity."

For a moment there was no reaction then Michaela blinked several times before slowly turning her head in the direction of her mother's voice. Her eyes began to focus and she registered the stern face of Elizabeth Quinn standing before her and Rebecca sitting at her side, her hands twisted together in her lap.

"Your father would be ashamed if he could see you now."

As Elizabeth addressed her daughter, she eagerly watched her response, inwardly elated that her plan had worked. Mocking her had aroused the fiery aspect of Michaela's nature which was stubborn enough to pull her out of her detached state and was now fighting desperately to reply to the accusations being thrown at it.

Michaela's features hardened and her eyes darkened with anger as she uttered the single word, "Why?"

Exhaling with relief, Elizabeth moved to sit beside Rebecca.

"Why what Michaela?" she asked sedately.

"Why…..have you been keeping things from me? What aren't you telling me?" replied Michaela angrily.

"Oh Michaela," began Rebecca, "We're so sorry. We wanted to tell you but we couldn't, Dr. Davis said…."

"What did he say?" Michaela was now alert and picking up on her sister's distressed tone, was unexpectedly curious.

"Michaela, you recall we spoke a few days ago about your accident" broke in Elizabeth.

"Yes mother. You said that I had sustained a severe head injury following a train accident" answered Michaela quickly, her anger diminishing at the prospect of finally getting answers to the many questions plaguing her mind.

"Precisely," continued Elizabeth, "but that was only part of the truth."

"Mother?" asked Michaela cautiously as Elizabeth paused.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she had to say.

"You believe that you injured yourself en route to Colorado Springs. In actual fact, the train you were on was on its way back from St Louis."

"I don't understand," said Michaela, her brow furrowing.

"Michaela you were coming to Boston to attend a medical conference. You left your home and practice in Colorado about two weeks ago for that very purpose. The train from St Louis derailed just outside Boston." continued Elizabeth quietly.

"My practice…." began Michaela, her voice breaking with utter disbelief.

"Yes, your practice. It seems that your injury induced some memory loss which is why you can not recall the events of your recent life."

"Dr Davis made us promise not to tell you at first Michaela," Rebecca said sadly, speaking for the first time, tears forming in her dark eyes, "he said the shock might be too great for you to bear."

Michaela sat silent for a moment, trying to absorb what she was hearing, before asking fearfully, "How much have I forgotten?"

Elizabeth glanced at Rebecca. Grasping her sister's hand more tightly Rebecca replied, "About three years."

"Three years" repeated Michaela, shocked. "Three years!"

"Now Michaela, there's no need to worry. You're going to remember everything I promise!" assured Rebecca, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Stunned, Michaela raised her own tear filled eyes to her sister's face and reached for comfort.

Entangled together, the two sisters wept, sharing their pain. Elizabeth watched them for a moment before averting her face, as tears made their way slowly down her pale cheeks.

A hiss resounded in the air as a beam of light erupted in the darkness, chasing the shadows into the lonely corners of the room. Rebecca stepped back, her tear stained cheeks being thrown into sharp relief from the glare of the lantern. She moved to light an additional lamp at Michaela's bedside before returning to her original seat.

Michaela smiled gratefully at her sister, before her brow furrowed again with puzzlement and she turned to her mother.

"I don't know what to think" she said hesitantly. "I have a home, a practice that I don't remember…."

"Well, let's start with what you do remember Michaela" replied Elizabeth calmly.

"I don't know…." began Michaela slowly, "I remember the morning I was to catch the train to St. Louis. I left through the back door while you were all at breakfast. I just didn't want to argue again. I walked to the cemetery to say goodbye to Father before taking a carriage to the station. As I stood alone on the platform, I kept hoping you would come to see me, to forgive me for leaving. I waited until the train started to move out before I realised you weren't coming and jumped on board. The last thing I remember was sitting by the window watching my home disappear from sight."

Michaela paused, then looked up into her mother's face and added softly, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too Michaela" replied Elizabeth, grasping her daughter's hand, "but that's in the past now."

"Past…."repeated Michaela; the word held an entirely new meaning to her now.

"It's alright Michaela" said Rebecca quietly, noticing her sister's disconcert. "We'll help you to remember."

Nodding, Elizabeth continued "However, it's getting late and Rebecca and I must be going. We can return tomorrow and discuss this further."

Rising from her chair, Rebecca collected her shawl then bent down to kiss her sister on the forehead and whispered "We'll see you tomorrow Michaela. Get some sleep."

Michaela watched her sister link arms with her mother and walk towards the door. She didn't want them to leave; her mind was in tumult and she was so desperate for answers. Just as they were about to step into the hall, she suddenly called out.

"Wait!"

Elizabeth and Rebecca turned back to her inquiringly.

"What's the matter Michaela?" asked Rebecca, concerned.

"There was a man, a man who was at the hospital a few days after I woke up. He was calling my name and then…..I met someone today in the garden. I'm sure it was him, his voice was the same. Who is he? Does he know me?"

Rebecca exchanged glances with her mother before replying.

"His name is Mr Sully. He's a…..friend of yours from Colorado Springs."

"Sully….." Michaela tried the name for herself. The name rolled off her tongue as easily as her own and seemed to flitter through her mind and heart. _He must be a very good friend_, she thought, _for me to feel so_ _close to him, even his name seems so familiar to me. _Yet, this thought puzzled her intensely. She had never found it easy to open up to people and besides her father, she had never had a friend whom she could trust implicitly. The idea of her having a confidante seemed completely alien when suddenly she recalled the inexplicable connection she had felt to the stranger Sully as he gazed at her in the garden.

"Could you ask him to come and see me, maybe tomorrow?" she requested, looking hopefully up at her sister.

Rebecca smiled and replied "Of course. Good night Michaela" before leading Elizabeth into the hall and pulling the door closed behind her.

"Sully…." repeated Michaela softly to herself, "Sully."

Matthew walked slowly back from the telegraph office, re-reading the slip of paper in his hands. He had been ecstatic when Horace had called him over, saying that there was a telegram from Boston. There had been no news from Sully since his arrival and although he had tried to stay positive for his siblings, Matthew had become increasingly concerned. Before he knew it, he was standing on the porch of the clinic. Through the door he heard Colleen say something to Brian and the two of them burst out laughing. Glancing sadly down at the telegram, Sully's words leapt out at him, _Break it to them gently Matthew._

Removing his hat, he reached for the knob and pushing the door open, prepared to face his siblings.

"Hey Matthew" said Colleen cheerily, looking up from the pile of bandages she was rolling. "Thought you were gunna go see Ingrid."

Matthew cleared his throat before replying. "I was….I just…"

He stopped and cleared his throat again.

"You're not getting sick are ya Matthew?" asked Brian from his perch on the examination table, continuing to swing his legs, his mouth full of liquorice.

"Lovesick maybe" teased Colleen. When Matthew didn't respond to her banter and instead looked down at his boots, the smile faded off her face and she asked worriedly, "What happened Matthew?"

Looking up to meet his sister's troubled gaze, Matthew took a deep breath before replying.

"I got a telegram. It's from Sully."

Brian jumped down from the examination table and hastily swallowed his mouthful of liquorice before asking excitedly "Is it bout Ma? They comin' home?"

Matthew glanced down at his little brother's face, alight with hope and then at his sister. Even from a distance, Colleen could see the pain etched on her older brother's face and she knew instantly that something was terribly wrong. Moving slowly towards him, she extended her hand for the telegram. Matthew swallowed hard before passing it over, his hands trembling. He watched as her puzzled gaze momentarily met his before her head bent to peruse the contents of the slip of paper.

When a minute had passed in silence, Brian tugged on his sister's arm and asked impatiently "What's it say!"

"Brian, you gotta listen to me alright" said Matthew softly, crouching down to face his little brother. "Do you remember when you hit your head and you couldn't see for a while?"

"Sure" replied Brian confusedly, "but that was only for a while. Ma fixed me up and now I'm fine."

"Yeh she did Brian. But now Dr Mike got hurt and the doctors had to fix her up in the same way" continued Matthew.

"Ya saying she can't see neither Matthew? Cos I don't mind, she'll still be my Ma" answered Brian innocently.

Matthew paused. This was proving much harder than he had expected.

"No Brian, Ma aint blind." Colleen had finally looked up from the telegram, her face pale and expressionless. "She's lost her memory."

"What d'ya mean? She forgot?" asked Brian, his young face creased in consternation.

"S'right Brian. She forgot some stuff. But don't worry, Sully says she's starting to remember things now and 'fore long she's gunna be back here, same as before" said Matthew, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder and trying his best to sound positive.

Brian however moved out from under Matthew's hand. Taking a step back, his eyes wide in fear, he repeated, "She forgot us? Ma forgot about us?"

"Brian" began Matthew. But before he could continue, Brian had pushed past him and yanked open the clinic door. Colleen rushed to the door and watched her brother hurtle towards the church.

"Brian!" she called frantically. Picking up her skirts, she ran after him, Matthew close at her heels.

Brian ran as fast as he could away from town. Tears had formed in his eyes and were now streaming down his cheeks but he didn't care. After his birth mother had died, leaving him alone, he had admitted Dr Mike into his heart, allowing her to adopt the role of friend, then comforter and finally mother. Yet here he was, facing the loss of yet another parent, deserted once again. And this time, the pain was almost unbearable. Heart pounding, he pushed open the gate of the cemetery and collapsed on his knees next to his mother's grave.

"Why d'ya have to leave me Ma? Why? Now Dr Mike's gone too and I'm all alone" he sobbed, his breathing ragged and tears trickling down his neck.

"I'm scared Ma…. I don't wanna be alone…. Ma…." he continued, his voice falling to a whisper. The tears continued to flow and Brian bowed his head, shoulders shaking with grief.

"Brian!" panted Colleen as she hurried to his side and sat down. Pulling her little brother into her arms, she embraced him tightly, her chest still heaving from the pursuit.

Matthew had paused momentarily at the gate but now he walked slowly to his mother's grave and sat down beside Colleen. Glancing for a moment at the simple headstone, he offered a silent prayer for his mother before turning to his siblings.

"Brian…"he called softly, reaching out to stroke his little brother's arm.

A few moments passed in silence before Brian finally turned towards his brother, his cheeks flushed from crying.

"Brian, Sully says Dr Mike is doing good….she's gunna be ok….he wants us to go to Boston to see her….how'd you like to go see her?"

Brian hesitated, before nodding slowly.

"I'm sure by the time we get there Ma will have remembered lots of things" Colleen assured him.

"Will she….will she remember me?" Brian hiccupped.

"Course she will" answered Matthew standing up and pulling Brian up beside him.

"She's be crazy not to" added Colleen, brushing off her skirts and then placing an arm on her younger brother's shoulder, she guided him out of the cemetery towards town.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8:**_

A single candle was burning on the dresser, casting a glow over the various brushes, bottles and pins that cluttered its polished surface. A long mirror in the centre revealed a woman in a thin nightdress, her face pale and drawn. Her brow was furrowed and her right hand absently fingered the thin silver chain around her neck. Despite her age and present contemplative state, her features still retained the striking beauty of her youth. As she fidgeted, the candle light occasionally caught the silver tints in her once auburn hair and made them shimmer in the darkness. Her eyes were lustrous beneath still dark lashes while the angle of her jaw and curve of her neck reflected a singular elegance.

A clock in the hall struck one and the woman glanced up, meeting her reflection. Slowly, her hand moved up to trace the deep creases under her eyes and down her cheeks. She felt old, even withered in her mind and tired, so tired she wondered if she would ever be able to awaken once she succumbed to the sleep that was toying with her eyelids. Yet she resisted it.

Turning her thoughts to the events of the day, her back visibly curved under the weight of her emotions. The proud stature dictated by her social position that she had rigidly maintained all day finally crumpled within the confines of her bedroom. Tears sprung to her eyes; tears of anguish, of regret and of relief.

Hidden from the world and released from the shackles of propriety, the heartrending cries of a distraught mother filled the room and echoed down the empty hall.

The sun rose steadily, its rays pushing back the curtain of night and banishing the darkness that clung to the sleeping city. It would not be long before the clatter of carriages and hubbub of people going about their business would fill the deserted streets. Yet as the sun slowly ascended into the sky only the carolling of the birds frequenting the gardens by the Charles broke the silence and welcomed the arrival of the morning.

Michaela sat in a chair by her window, the curtains pulled back, and watched as the sunbeams caressed the length of the river, leaving a sparkling array of colour in their wake.

After her mother and sister had left the hospital, she had lain awake for hours in the darkness, pushing her mind to remember and struggling endlessly against the blanket that seemed to lay over her memories. Finally exhausted, she had fallen asleep but had slept fitfully and awoken many times, her pulse racing and her nightshirt damp with sweat. The approach of dawn had acted to scatter her last remnants of sleep and feeling thoroughly awake, Michaela had risen and assumed her position by the window.

For the first time in days, she had discarded her nightgown and put on a simple but clean dress. The forest green hue contrasted well with her auburn hair that following a vigorous encounter with the hairbrush, was freed of the tangles that had been gradually accumulating in it. In the darkness of her room, she hadn't attempted to pin it up but simply pulled it back from her face and allowed it to flow freely over her shoulders and down her back.

Lost in thought, the sun was high in the sky before Michaela was recalled to the present. Stretching from her position in the chair she glanced around the room. It seemed to shrink before her very eyes and suddenly she was desperate to get out, to escape from her fear, from her uncertainty. Picking up her shawl, she pulled on her boots and crept out of the door. Walking fast, she headed straight for the garden behind the hospital. Just as she neared the entrance, she paused, her heart suddenly racing. She placed her cool hands up to her cheeks, inwardly surprised at how flushed they were. Taking a deep breath, she peered around the heavy wooden door. Disappointment flooded through her as she saw the rusty bench, empty, in the middle of the lawn. Slowly, she made her way across to the seat, the grass soft and springy underfoot. Settling herself down, she recalled the last time she had sat there, so nervous and yet so intrigued. "Sully…" she whispered as his image swam into her mind and she remembered the breathtaking blue of his eyes, the intoxicating leathery scent of his jacket, the electrifying effect his touch had had on her.

Suddenly ashamed of her thoughts, Michaela glanced around the garden searching for a distraction. Noticing a dandelion at her feet, she plucked it from the grass and twirled it thoughtfully in her hand. An impression lingered at the edges of her mind, pulling at her attention, but as she reached out to grasp it, it eluded her and disappeared, leaving her mind a void once again.

Sighing with frustration, she closed her eyes and taking a deep breath, blew out hard. The seeds in her hand scattered instantly and Michaela opened her eyes just in time to see the last few hover momentarily around her before a gust of wind carried them skyward and they vanished from sight.

"There you are Michaela! I have been searching the whole hospital for you!"

Michaela started out of her reverie and turning to the entrance of the garden saw her mother striding towards her. Hastily standing up and dusting off her skirt she waited until her mother was closer before addressing her.

"Good Morning Mother. I'm sorry I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air."

"Oh I'm sure you did Michaela but as per usual you failed to leave any information as to your whereabouts thus causing quite a panic." Mrs Quinn said sharply. "A simple note would have sufficed."

Michaela felt the colour rise in her cheeks but stared resolutely back at her mother. Somehow, Elizabeth always made her feel like she was that young girl again, the one who had been caught trying to sneak out of the house to follow her father's carriage to the hospital.

"I'm sorry Mother, I didn't mean to alarm you" began Michaela and then suddenly she paused. Casting a critical eye over her mother's complexion, she frowned, the doctor in her immediately registering the dark circles under the slightly puffy eyes and the pale tinge that clung to the usually rosy cheeks.

"Mother, are you feeling alright this morning?" she asked slowly, peering concernedly into her mother's eyes.

Elizabeth started momentarily before replying rapidly "Of course I am. If I look a little worse for the wear it's on account of my having to chase around after you all the time."

Noting Michaela's unconvinced expression, she continued in a more irritated tone.

"Now that I have found you I suggest we both go in and you have some breakfast."

"Where's Rebecca?" asked Michaela, suddenly noticing her sister's absence.

"She had some things she needed to attend to" replied Elizabeth evasively, "Now, please, let's go inside."

Michaela nodded and extended her arm. As her mother linked arms with her, Michaela examined her face more closely. She was certain that Elizabeth had been blasé about her health to stop her from worrying but in fact her attitude had had quite the opposite effect. Determined to keep a close eye on her, Michaela tightened her hand on her mother's arm as together they made their way back to the hospital.

"Well, that breakfast was intolerable! I have a good mind to complain to Dr Davis the next time I see him. Who ever heard of such meagre portions and cold coffee? It is completely unacceptable!"

"Mother please!" said Michaela exasperated. Elizabeth had been voicing her opinions with regards to the hospital food rather strongly for the last ten minutes and Michaela was desperate to bring the conversation back to a more fruitful subject. "It wasn't that bad and besides, perhaps I will be home soon and you won't have to worry about my being malnourished any longer" she continued.

"That's besides the point Michaela. You are not the only patient here! Why if Joseph were here I am sure he would be appalled!" snapped Elizabeth, throwing her napkin down on the bed.

Michaela rolled her eyes as she recalled the numerous occasions during her youth when her father had humoured her mother by feigning disbelief at the new evil which according to Elizabeth, was the sole cause for the complete disintegration of society. For that week at least.

"Father wanted me to go to Colorado and start my own practice, start my own life. Now I can't even remember it" said Michaela sadly, the memories of her father awakening painful emotions in her heart.

"Yes he did Michaela" replied Elizabeth, her anger ebbing away in the face of her daughter's despair, "and he would be proud of you" she added softly.

Michaela looked up hopefully, tears springing to her eyes. Elizabeth nodded slightly at her before clearing her throat. "I suppose I had better start at the beginning."

"As you recall you left Boston to answer an advertisement for a doctor in the town of Colorado Springs. I was against you going from the beginning. I thought it wasn't proper for a young unmarried woman to travel half way across the country to set up a practice in some godforsaken town."

Looking up, she met Michaela's irate gaze, her eyes seeming to spit fire.

"I see your opinions on the matter haven't changed. Perhaps someday you will realise I just wanted what was best for you."

Smiling slightly at her daughter, she continued.

"On your arrival in Colorado, you were befriended by the midwife, a Mrs Charlotte Cooper. She had three children, Matthew the eldest, Colleen and little Brian."

Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth was unable to keep the warmth out of her voice as she mentioned her youngest grandson. She vividly recalled her first visit to Colorado Springs when the innocent little boy had captured her heart and finally convinced her to accept him and his siblings as a part of her family.

Breaking off her train of thoughts, she glanced at Michaela who had suddenly gone very quiet, her head bent down and her pale hands twisted in her lap.

"Michaela…." she began softly.

Michaela looked up but did not meet her mother's gaze. Instead her eyes fixed on a point straight ahead of her and her brow furrowed in concentration.

"She had long dark hair….." she said slowly, mesmerised by the image in front of her, the vision only she could see. "And a beaming smile that made me feel so welcome even though most of the townsfolk wanted to send me straight back to Boston……she would never turn down anyone who asked for help…..she was my first friend……my best friend."

The figure before her eyes faded and Michaela blinked several times before turning her gaze back to her mother. The inward astonishment she felt was reflected clearly in Elizabeth's eyes and several minutes ticked by before either of them could speak again.

"Do you remember what happened to Charlotte, Michaela?" asked Elizabeth finally.

Michaela paused for a moment, a frown darkening her features as she struggled to remember but when her mind failed her again, she sighed and shook her head, disheartened.

"You wrote a letter to Rebecca in which you described how Charlotte had been bitten by a rattlesnake. In an earnest attempt to help her, you had hurried to her bedside but unfortunately it was too late and she passed away within an hour" continued Elizabeth softly, trying to break the news as gently she could.

A sob caught in Michaela's throat as a series of images assaulted her mind and heart.

_She was sitting in a chair, stethoscope in hand, listening intently to Charlotte's heart. Slowly she lowered the bell, removed the tube from her ear and met her friend's gaze. Charlotte nodded weakly at her, she knew it was her time. Michaela felt the tears spring to her eyes, blurring the faces in front of her and she reached out gripping Charlotte's hand convulsively in her own. Charlotte squeezed back feebly as her dimming sight turned to her three beautiful children. Michaela watched helplessly, the tears cascading down her cheeks as her best friend smiled one last time before her eyes finally closed on the world forever. Engulfed by her pain, Michaela barely registered as Colleen flung her slight form on her mother's now still body, weeping uncontrollably. Burying her head in her hands she had surrendered to the grief that threatened to rip her very soul into shreds and added her sobs to those that were already reverberating around the small room. _

Rivers of tears made their way steadily down her cheeks and dripped off the end of her chin. Turning wounded eyes to her mother she whispered brokenly, "I couldn't do anything…..I let her down…..I'm so sorry…..I'm so sorry"

Elizabeth reached for her daughter and enfolded her tightly in her arms as the anguish poured from her soul filling the room with heart wrenching sobs.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9:**_

"How can you be so heartless?"

Rebecca spoke softly but her voice was filled with disgust as she watched her younger sister dip her pen in the silver ink well and continue with her letter, stoically ignoring her.

"Michaela is our sister! Don't you even care?" continued Rebecca a little louder, desperate to illicit a response but her sister simply turned the page and carried on writing.

"Marjorie!" burst out Rebecca, her sister's indifference finally pushing her to breaking point.

Marjorie paused, her pen poised over the page and then slowly bent her head low to blow gently on it. Satisfied the ink was dry, she carefully replaced her pen in the stand and stood, taking great care to straighten the creases out of her silk skirt. Finally raising her gaze to her sister she spoke.

"What is it you want Rebecca?" she asked, her voice deceptively quiet and laced with venom.

Rebecca took a deep breath before replying. Her sister's exaggerated actions and apathetic attitude were deliberately to goad her and Rebecca would not give Marjorie the satisfaction of succeeding in infuriating her enough to forget the purpose of her visit.

"What I want is for you to show even a miniscule amount of sympathy for your younger sister. What I want is for you to stop this immature charade at once. You're not a child anymore Marjorie and it's about time you stopped acting like one!"

Marjorie's face slowly filled with colour and her eyes flashed with ire as she glared back at her sister.

"Oh," she whispered, "I'm a child, am I? A child!"

"Just answer me one question, Rebecca. Why should I go and see someone who doesn't give a tuppence about me? What has Michaela ever done for us besides humiliate us and make us the laughing stock of society? In her ridiculous determination to be a doctor she deliberately defied her mother, her sisters, not caring how her decisions would affect us. And of course, Michaela was all Father would ever talk about, as if the rest of us didn't even exist!"

Marjorie's voice rose in volume as she spoke, years of suppressed resentment erupting from deep within her.

"What has Michaela done for us?" breathed Rebecca in disbelief as Marjorie paused, her rage yielding her temporarily breathless "why she saved Mother's life! Thank god she _did_ become a doctor. Heaven knows if it hadn't been for her, Mother would be dead right now!"

"Hah!" snapped Marjorie furiously, "and do you remember how she barged into the hospital and had the gall to insult one of the most esteemed physicians in Boston? She had no right, no right _at all_ to discredit his diagnosis _or_ to treat mother behind our backs with her so called _Indian_ remedies. The cheek of it! She made us all look like fools, just because of her intolerable pride! And what's more, you just accept it, just let her do whatever she likes no matter the consequence!"

Marjorie stopped, breathing heavily, her eyes blazing and her face almost as red as the hair that had slipped free of its elegant chignon as she stormed. Rebecca stared at her for several moments, her eyes wide with shock. It was as if she was seeing her for the first time and sadly she realised that she had never truly known her sister. The real Marjorie had been buried long ago under mountains of neglect, jealousy and bitterness and Rebecca wondered if even a fragment of her soul remained in the shell of a person standing before her. Wordlessly, she picked up her shawl from its position on a high backed chair and turned towards the door. As she reached for the handle, she turned to her sister, jaw set and eyes sombre.

"You know what Marjorie, I think you're jealous of Michaela. That you always have been. You hate that she has worked so hard to have a career without worrying about spending her life alone. It gnaws at your heart that she is respected; as a doctor, as a mother, for who she really is. A woman. And you can go on begrudging her for the situation you're in now but you made your own choices. No-one forced you to marry the first man that called on you or to forego a career if that was what you really wanted. You have only yourself to blame."

And so saying, Rebecca pulled open the door and walked out, letting the door swing closed behind her.

Marjorie stood statue-like in the centre of the room, her arms folded tightly around herself. Her previously flushed face was pale and her eyes that had been aflame with fury were now dark and troubled. Her sister's words had left an acrid trail in her mind and as it forcibly pushed aside the antipathy that had been poisoning her thoughts for so long, she was filled with a painful realisation. Her shoulders slumped with self loathing and tears springing to her eyes, she collapsed in a chair, burying her face in her hands, hiding in shame. As she wept, long forgotten images from her childhood swept over her, the voices echoing in her mind.

_She was a slender young girl tearing up the polished wooden stairs. As she gained the top she turned and burst out laughing as she saw a three year old Michaela toddling after her, doll in hand, desperately trying to heave herself up the stairs before Martha caught hold of her and took her back to the nursery._

_Michaela reached for her hand and the two of them crept down the hall, their long white nightdresses illuminated in the moonlight. Settling themselves on the landing, they peered through the metal railings of the bannister, grinning at each other in the darkness as they watched the elegant ladies saunter across the hallway into the dining room, the music and laughter of the party fortunately drowning out their uncontrollable giggles._

_She sat wincing in front of a mirror as Michaela knelt in her nightgown on a stool behind her, her small hands carefully weaving flowers into her sister's intricate hairstyle, laughing at the pained expression reflected in the mirror as the bony framework of her first corset dug painfully into her sides. _

Michaela's infectious laughter rang in her ears and Marjorie's heart ached as she remembered the havoc the two of them had wrought, the tears they had shared as they were punished for their crimes and their mutual disgust as they watched their sisters with their beaus, solemnly vowing to each other that they would never let any man rule _their _hearts. She had forgotten that vow, forgotten herself.

Yet as Marjorie lamented for her past, a flicker of hope silently emerged and wrapped a tendril around her heart, progressively severing the aged vines that had fettered its beats for so long. Gradually, her sobs calmed and the mist in her mind settled. Brushing her tears away with the palm of her hand she took a deep breath and rising slowly, made her way to the door. She knew what she had to do. She only hoped it wasn't too late.

Michaela stood by the open window, the cool air soothing against her flushed cheeks. She ran a hand experimentally through her hair, nose wrinkling as she registered its somewhat dishevelled state. A wry smile spread across her face as she imagined her undoubtedly swollen eyes and blotchy cheeks and was suddenly very thankful that her small room didn't have a mirror that could attest to her sorry state. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps caught her attention and she turned to gaze expectantly at the door. She was rewarded a few moments later as the door handle turned and her mother strode in, cane clattering against the stone floor.

Elizabeth paused and glanced hesitantly at her daughter. The raw, vicious expression of Michaela's pain over the loss of her dear friend had completely overwhelmed her and within moments had threatened to utterly destroy her composure. Knowing that she had to maintain a strong front and desperately fighting the urge to surrender to her tears and grieve along with her child, Elizabeth had feigned a headache and escaped into the hallway. Back pressed against the door, her heart had heaved as Michaela's cries reached her ears. Riddled with guilt at abandoning her daughter yet again to weather her pain alone, she had allowed a lone tear to make its way down her cheek before hastily dabbing it away with the tip of her lace handkerchief. Ignoring the pleas of her weeping heart to return to the room, to provide support and comfort, she had squared her shoulders and stalked down the corridor in search of Dr Davis.

Michaela met her mother's concerned gaze and smiled slightly. She needed no explanation with regards to her mother's behaviour and any anger she might have felt at being left alone was instead replaced by sympathy and understanding.

"How's your head?" she asked softly.

Elizabeth simply smiled at her astute daughter and moved to the chair she had previously occupied. Michaela waited until her mother was seated before settling down in her own chair. Silence reigned for a few moments as both mother and daughter collected their thoughts. Opening the door to the past had proved effortless but in the aftermath of so much aguish and loss, neither of them was sure how to proceed.

Eventually Elizabeth spoke.

"On her deathbed Charlotte made you promise to take care of her three children. Their father had deserted them long ago and without you to take care of them they would have been destitute."

"But that's impossible! I don't know anything about children! Why on earth would she pick me?" exclaimed Michaela in surprise.

Elizabeth chuckled before replying. "I know Michaela, or at least I surmised as much from what you told Rebecca in your letter. However, despite your self-doubt you did as Charlotte requested and took the children in."

"They weren't happy though" whispered Michaela, her brow furrowed once again.

"Not initially but slowly they came to trust you. Now they can't get along without you" assured Elizabeth.

"Brian….he left…..I didn't even hear him leave" continued Michaela as though she hadn't heard her mother's response. "When I woke up and realised he'd gone….I was so afraid…..I should have been more careful….he could have died and it would have been my fault."

Her voice broke slightly as she recalled the mind numbing fear that had engulfed her as she had darted out of the homestead fervently calling her son's name.

_She had never known such despair, such absolute helplessness. The darkness surrounded her, almost smothering her under its heavy mantle. The air was close and she found herself struggling to draw breath as the pungent aroma of raw hide and smoke filled her senses. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as she sat, blinded by terror, tears burning paths down her cheeks, a painful reminder of her failure._

_Through the darkness a pair of hands reached out and draped a blanket tenderly over her bent back. Lingering at her shoulders, they squeezed gently and she felt reassurance flow through her, meandering slowly down to her heart where it settled, calming the rapid beats and gradually assuaging her fear. Glancing up she noticed the light from a small fire had sketched her outline along the wall of the tepee and as she watched another silhouette blended with hers. The shadow of a man. _


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10:**_

Sully balled his trembling hands into tight fists as he made his way down the many corridors towards Michaela's room. He had been up since dawn, anxiously awaiting this moment but now that it had finally arrived, he found himself fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction. His chance encounter with Michaela the day before had caught him off guard and it had taken all his self control to maintain the necessary façade of indifference. Yet as their hands had accidentally brushed against each other, the thrilling sensation of her soft skin against his after so many weeks apart had proved to be his undoing and he had felt his front slipping. Fortunately he had been able to regain his composure before she realised, but his heart ached as he recalled how hurriedly she had pulled away from him, shock and alarm reflected in her eyes. She had been afraid of him.

Throughout their early courtship, he had constantly had to struggle against her insecurities, her apprehension at letting someone into her life for fear of being hurt or left alone again and above all, the profound sense of propriety, deeply engrained in her since youth, which staunchly governed her mind when it came to matters of the heart. It had taken much time and effort on his part to finally convince her to open her heart to him, to trust him and to let him love her the way she deserved to be loved.

It seemed surreal that in an instant, the carefree, passionate woman who had held his heart had disappeared only to once again be replaced by the gritty, reserved doctor who had come to Colorado all those years ago, a seemingly impenetrable wall around her heart, hell-bent on gaining the respect of society as a professional, irrespective of her gender.

The cruel injustice of the situation threatening to overwhelm him, Sully wondered how he would bear to face her now and have her look at him in that way again, like a stranger. He just didn't know if he was strong enough.

Lifting his head up slightly to ascertain his whereabouts, Sully caught sight of two women deep in conversation with a portly man at the far end of the passage, a door standing ajar beside them. His mind still absorbed with its own musings, it took several minutes of casual observation before he registered their familiar features which even from a distance were clearly morose. Panic instantly extended an icy claw and seized his heart in an unyielding grip, stilling its beats and forcing the very air out of his lungs. Thoughts in complete disarray and barely heeding what he was doing, he dashed towards the small group, his boots slapping against the stone tiles as he ran. Three pairs of eyes turned in the direction of the sudden noise and widened in shock as Sully hurtled towards them, coming to a halt a mere foot in front of them

"What is it? What's happened to Michaela? Is she ok?" asked Sully frantically, his gaze shifting rapidly between the three of them.

"She's alright Mr Sully, don't worry" replied Rebecca soothingly "she's just tired."

Unconvinced, Sully turned to Dr Davis who nodded in agreement.

"Dr Quinn is running a mild fever and was complaining of severe headache. It is not uncommon for patients who have undergone a major trauma to have some degree of relapse in their symptoms although I suspect her emotional state may have contributed to her condition. I have given her some laudanum to help her head and with some rest, I suspect her temperature will normalise of its own accord. I'll keep an eye on her but I don't envisage any long term complications."

Sully closed his eyes and released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, the agonising pressure in his chest lessening somewhat. Dr Davis watched as relief flooded over the young man's face and out of courtesy waited until Sully re-opened his eyes before taking his leave.

"Thanks" said Sully quietly, extending his hand to the doctor. Dr Davis smiled and shook Sully's hand cordially before heading off down the corridor.

"I'm very sorry Mr Sully."

Sully turned to face Elizabeth and was shocked to see her regarding him with a mixture of torment and guilt.

"Once again I made the grave mistake of pushing my daughter too hard and now she is suffering because of it" she continued.

"Mother," began Rebecca softly but Elizabeth lifted her hand to silence her.

"I shouldn't have continued to talk with her, not after her painful reaction to the news of Charlotte's death. But I was so desperate for her to remember. The fault is mine, Mr Sully, mine alone."

Sully considered the astounding woman standing in front of him for several minutes before he spoke. Something she had witnessed had had a profound effect on her, and Sully found himself wondering what had happened between Michaela and her mother to provoke such a dramatic change. Her habitually proud, often hostile eyes were now dark oceans of repressed agony, and her notoriously haughty demeanour had been replaced by one of frailty and vulnerability. For the first time, Sully failed to see a vibrant, indomitable character before him, but in her stead an aged woman, her back bent under the weight of the burdens Life had carelessly bestowed upon her, exhaustion etched deeply in her lineaments.

"Mrs. Quinn, I don't blame you for what happened to Michaela" he said, "her body's just tryin' to deal with everything that's happenin'. We all want her to remember. It's just gunna take some time, that's all."

"Mr Sully is right Mother" supplemented Rebecca, placing an arm gently around her mother and supporting her weight. "You're just tired and upset. Let me take you home. After a rest you'll feel much better I'm sure"

Elizabeth nodded wearily and allowed Rebecca to guide her away from Michaela's door. Just as they reached the narrow passage leading to the hospital exit, Elizabeth turned back to Sully.

"I can't help my daughter anymore. She needs you" she stated defeatedly before disappearing around the bend.

The heavy curtain had been drawn over the window, blocking out the last rays of afternoon sunshine. In the semi-darkness, Sully made his way noiselessly over to the bed and gazed down at his fiancées form. Beads of sweat had formed on her forehead and strands of her long hair had stuck to her dampened cheeks, accentuating the gentle curves of her countenance. As he watched, she shifted restlessly, hands pulling at the coverlet and a soft moan escaped her slightly parted lips. Extending a hand to caress her face, his fingers were inches from her brow before he realised what he was doing and quickly withdrew. Almost as though she sensed another's presence, Michaela moaned again and rolled slightly towards Sully, her brow suddenly furrowing and her eyes continuing to move beneath the lids that resolutely hid his image from her sight.

Sully swallowed hard as unbidden, a memory crossed his mind.

_The influenza epidemic had struck the town badly and every day, news came of another person who had been infected, another person who hadn't made it through. To him, they had simply been names, meaningless names of faceless individuals. As he cradled her head gently in his lap, he found himself wishing that she could have been one of them, just another nameless victim of no consequence to him. Each raspy breath she took punctured his heart anew, flooding his soul with such pain that even he, who had lost everything a man could lose and was no stranger to anguish, recoiled from it in horror. As he brushed the long, coppery locks away from her delicate face, his gaze traversed her features, revelling in her beauty. He didn't know why he was so drawn to her, why her wellbeing concerned him so much. All he knew was that she had to live, she had to survive. Her family needed her; her friends needed her, he…. _

_Almost as though he had read his mind, Cloud Dancing suddenly turned towards him. _

"_Will she live?" he had asked his brother desperately._

The reply echoed in Sully's mind, "That is up to you."

A sudden noise in the hallway hastily recalled Sully to the present. Reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out a small red rose, its dark green sepals nestling comfortably between the few petals that had already uncurled from the bud. Placing it on the table next to Michaela's bed, he glanced down at her one last time before he straightened, preparing to leave. Just as he was about to turn away, Cloud Dancing's words resounded again in his ears. Then, he had been terrified Michaela would die before he had a chance to tell her how much she meant to him. Now as he stood before her, even with the knowledge that she would probably have completely recovered by the morning, he realised that he wouldn't make the same mistake again, he couldn't take a chance. Bending over her, he tenderly placed his lips on her forehead.

"I love you," he murmured before stepping away and making his way quietly from her room.

_Michaela writhed against the sheets, trying to find a cool spot to soothe her heated skin. The blood pounded through her veins and hammered unrelentingly against her skull. Moaning in pain, she tried to lift her arm up to her head but her limbs felt feeble and clumsy._

_Fumbling in the darkness, her fingers collided with a knuckle, then another. The hand suddenly jerked against hers as the figure in the chair by her bed started awake, and she felt it softly arrest her wandering fingers in its own. Gradually opening her eyes she tried to focus on the person sitting beside her but the room was dim and her vision was hazy. Before she could react, the stranger's hand released hers and the sound of receding footsteps rang in her ears._

_Time seemed to stretch out in an eternity and Michaela lay in a stupor, images and sounds blurring into an unfathomable mass within her mind. In the confused state between sleeping and waking, she thought she sensed a slight movement above her before a light, feather like touch caressed her forehead. The air stirred momentarily, brushing against her ear, as soft as a whisper. Yet even as she struggled against her heavy eyelids, silence was again restored and the presence around her had gone. _

The day was far advanced before Michaela awoke, the pain in her head all but gone and her mind pleasantly refreshed. Turning onto her left side, she noted a breakfast tray had been left for her on the side table although judging by the curdled state of the porridge, it had clearly been there for quite some time. Smiling to herself as she recalled her mother's indignant sermon the morning before, she pulled herself into an upright position and pushing the coverlet down, contentedly surveyed the small room. A flash of red at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned back to the table. Almost concealed by the large, wooden tray lay a small red rose. Carefully, Michaela picked up the stem and lifted the flower up to her face. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, breathing in its distinct perfume. A sudden thought struck her and she opened her eyes. Curiously she glanced around for a note or token of some kind that would give her a clue as to the origin of the simple gift. When she found none, she settled back against the pillows in confusion. _Perhaps Mother left it, _she thought rationally, _or Rebecca. She always likes to add her own touch to the places she visits._

As she fingered the velvety petals, Michaela felt her mind begin to work frantically, wandering deep into the undiscovered recesses of her memory, probing, searching, before a sudden image burst over her consciousness.

_She tugged sharply on the reins, pulling her sweating horse to a halt in front of the crowd. Leaping out of the saddle, she was immediately surrounded by a throng of spectators, the thunderous applause ringing in her ears. Making her way towards three gentlemen standing apart from the others, she paused for a moment and lifted her chin. Triumphantly she snatched the hat off her head, liberating her long locks that immediately uncurled and cascaded down her back. Her eyes glinted in satisfaction at their startled expressions and when, despite furious protests, the rose laden wreath was laid on her horse's back, she felt her heart swell with joy. _

_As she reached up to reclaim her horse's bridle, she heard someone approach her. She smiled slightly, instinctively knowing who it was. Lifting her gaze, she gratefully accepted the single, crimson blossom and raising it to her face, buried herself in its softness, her soul awash with the unspoken pride and admiration of its donor. _


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter 11:**_

Michaela paused, one hand desperately trying to hold on to the locks of hair that persisted in slipping free from the coil of hair at the nape of her neck, the other fumbling around the small table for the pins to secure the tendrils in place.

"Come in!" she called in response to the soft knock, continuing her frantic hunt.

The door opened slowly and as the rustling of heavily starched petticoats reached her, Michaela sighed in relief.

"Oh thank goodness you're here Rebecca! My hair seems determined to infuriate me. It's slipping all over the place and I can't seem to find my hair pins anywhere although I am sure they were here yesterday!" she continued, somewhat hysterically.

The figure behind her bent down to pick up a lone, pearl tipped pin that had no doubt been catapulted to its current position on the floor, a full foot behind its owner, during the frenzied search. Reaching up, she brushed Michaela's hands unceremoniously away and with a slight tug, firmly twisted the troublesome strands in place.

"Ouch!" protested Michaela, rubbing her hand across the back of her neck as the now fastened hairs pulled somewhat on her scalp. "You didn't have to be so brutal!"

A resentful expression on her face, she turned to glare at the inflictor of her pain. Her eyes widened in surprise as she registered the individual standing before her.

"Marjorie!" she gasped disbelievingly.

"Hello Michaela" replied her sister, a slight smile attempting to lighten her grave features yet unable to quite penetrate the darkened pools of her eyes.

"Wha….what are you doing here?" stammered Michaela, shock still reflected in her features.

"I came to see how you were. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I was hoping we might have a talk," answered Marjorie, glancing hopefully at her younger sister.

Unable to reply, Michaela simply nodded and motioned to the chairs situated by the window. An awkward silence filled the room as the two sisters sat before each other, the easy demeanour of their youth a distant memory in the face of their present estrangement, neither sure how to even begin to vocalise the myriad of emotions weighing heavily on both their hearts and minds.

Marjorie was the first to speak.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, retreating into the sanctuary of polite civilities.

"I'm…..fine" replied Michaela slowly, her eyes continuing to peruse her sister curiously. Unexpectedly, she smiled before adding, "I have a hard head."

Marjorie smiled at the reply, as she too vividly recalled Michaela's fifth birthday. Absorbed in a forbidden game of tag, her younger sister had slipped on the highly polished floor and collided rather violently with the iron coat hanger in the hallway. A small scar just above her right ear bore testimony to the three stitches her father had carefully administered while she sat on his desk, her mouth full of birthday cake, following his every move. When Elizabeth had arrived a half hour later to send her daughter to bed, she had found her sitting on Joseph's lap, the two of them deep in discussion, a heavy medical text book lying open on the desk.

"Mother was furious when she came upstairs that night," reminisced Marjorie softly, "She thought the idea of you becoming a doctor was preposterous and she blamed Father for encouraging you to persue a career in a field where you'd never be accepted account of your being a woman."

"And much as I hate to admit it, Mother was right" said Michaela sadly, "Nothing was the same after Father died."

"No she wasn't Michaela" interjected her sister heatedly, "Boston may not have accepted you for the fine physician you were, but Colorado Springs did. You set up your own practice and by all accounts it sounds like the town wouldn't be the same without you."

Michaela looked up suddenly and met her sister's passionate gaze.

"But you….you never wanted me to become a doctor. You stopped speaking to me after I started college and then you married Everett and I hardly ever saw you. We didn't even say goodbye before I left for Colorado. I thought you hated me, hated me for what I had done."

Marjorie lowered her head, her features contorted with shame and regret. When she finally glanced up, her eyes were filled with tears.

"For a long time, I thought I hated you too. I couldn't bear that you were so happy, succeeding at everything you did, top of your class in college while I ….." she said quietly, her voice quivering as she struggled to maintain control of her emotions.

"It was only recently that I came to realise that it wasn't you I hated, but _me_. I despised myself for being a coward, a pathetic woman who had sold herself to the first man she met, foolishly thinking he was in love with her. A brainless, ignorant, fool" she finished, the tears now running unchecked down her cheeks.

"Oh Marjorie," breathed Michaela, reaching out and enfolding her in her embrace, her own tears mingling with her sister's as they held each other close.

For several minutes they sat together, the tears continuing to flow as years of unspoken bitterness and regret poured from their souls, their hearts communicating what their voices could not, finally uniting the siblings in mutual understanding.

Michaela drew away from her sister and giggled surreptitiously as she noted her red rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. Marjorie looked at her enquiringly but was met with a sly grin as Michaela brushed away her own tears and laughingly gestured to her now unkempt hair. Suspecting that she too was quite a sight to be seen, Marjorie joined in the laughter before adding "You never could be serious could you Mike?"

Shaking her head ruefully, Michaela sighed.

"Mother always hated it when you called me Mike. She said it was 'a ridiculous nickname that was entirely inappropriate.'"

Marjorie watched her sister thoughtfully before responding. "I think it reminded her too forcibly of Father and consequently the choice you had made to follow in his footsteps. She missed him terribly after he passed away and then suddenly you decided to leave too. Perhaps she said things in grief, things she now regrets. Don't judge her too harshly Michaela. She only wanted what was best for all her girls."

Michaela stared at her sister before her face burst into a wide smile.

"You're starting to sound like Rebecca" she teased.

Marjorie rolled her eyes but smiled back. She had never realised just how much she had missed her baby sister.

Suddenly, Michaela's face clouded over as she mulled over what Marjorie had just said. Her mother's attitude towards her had certainly altered but Michaela was still puzzled as to the reason why. Unconvinced that it was simply due to guilt, she ventured to probe a little further.

"I never thought Mother would ever accept me as a doctor," she began in a doubtful tone, "even when Father was alive she seemed to resent my passion for medicine. But when I woke up and Dr Davis came to speak to me, she insisted he call me Dr Quinn, almost as if she was proud of me."

"She _is_ proud of you Michaela, how could she not be? You saved her life!" replied Marjorie in surprise.

"I ….I what?" stammered Michaela, gaping at her sister in sheer disbelief.

"You saved her life" repeated Marjorie calmly, a tinge of pride subconsciously reflected in her own voice.

"A year ago Mother became seriously ill and Rebecca sent you a telegram to come to Boston as quickly as possible. Dr Hanson had diagnosed a liver tumour and she was so unwell, we thought we were going to lose her" she continued.

"A liver tumour…." murmured Michaela, her brow furrowing, as her sister paused in her narrative, "but there was no mass."

"That's right Michaela," said Marjorie eagerly, "you said that you couldn't feel a tumour and thus you believed Mother was suffering from hepatitis. Something about eating…."

"Oysters," supplemented Michaela instantly, looking up at her sister delightedly. "A paper had just been published demonstrating the link between sea food and hepatitis."

Marjorie's eyes gleamed as she surveyed her sister's excited face. Nodding she continued, "Despite some of our opinions on the matter, you began treating Mother with a tea that you discovered in Colorado, an infusion of a plant, dandelion I think it was. In just two weeks, Mother was completely cured."

"I didn't discover it," mused Michaela quietly, her radiant happiness diminishing somewhat. "It's an ancient remedy that's been used for centuries for detoxification purposes."

When Marjorie didn't respond further, Michaela glanced up. Her sister was staring at her expectantly but as she struggled fervently to recall anything further, her mind retreated once more into its hollow, leaving her quite alone.

"I can't remember anymore," she said dejectedly, her shoulders crumpling in disappointment.

Marjorie's face softened as she reached out to grasp her sister's hand tightly in her own.

"You will Michaela, don't worry, you will."

"Well, perhaps I should leave you now, let you get some rest"

Marjorie released her sister's hand and rose from her seat. Michaela grinned as she watched her sister run her hands futilely along the length of her skirt in an attempt to smooth out the creases and make herself look presentable once again. Feeling Michaela's eyes on her, Marjorie looked up and smiled. Reaching forwards she gripped her in a tight embrace.

"I've missed you Mike" she said sincerely.

"I've missed you too Marjorie," replied Michaela as she fiercely returned the hug, "and thank you for coming to see me."

"Of course I came" retorted Marjorie, finally releasing her sister, "all be it a little late."

Michaela smiled happily as Marjorie collected her things and made her way to the door.

"Marjorie!" she called suddenly.

Marjorie turned slightly towards her, the door handle cold beneath her grasp.

"Everett loves you," continued Michaela softly, "I'm sure of it."

Marjorie took a deep breath, her features assuming a stony nature as she inwardly steeled herself to verbalise the inevitable conclusion of the thoughts that had been plaguing her ever since her marriage for the very first time.

"No he doesn't" she said firmly, "not the way that Father loved Mother, or Charles loves Rebecca or Su…"

Michaela glanced at her curiously as she unexpectedly broke off mid sentence. Feeling her colour rise, she continued hastily.

"Perhaps someday I will find someone who will love me in that way, the way a husband should love his wife. Till then…..well…..we'll see. Take care Michaela" she concluded and swiftly made her way from the room, leaving a troubled Michaela to gaze after her.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12:**_

The evening drew in, bringing with it a sudden burst of restlessness for Michaela. Following Marjorie's departure, she had simply sat by the window, innumerable memories of her childhood filling her mind and heart while Time gradually surpassed her, a solitary figure lost in the past.

Yet as the slanting rays of the setting sun filtered through the sparse clouds scattered across the sky, burnishing the city in shades of deep umber, the increasing darkness sought to wrench her back into the present. The waves of reality crashed heavily against the craggy shore of her consciousness and frustration encircled her once more as she recalled the harsh actuality of her situation. Swept away in the noise and tumult of her mind she remained momentarily motionless before suddenly rising and resolutely mastering the uncertainty that threatened to smother her, she walked over to the small table beside the bed. Opening a heavy textbook, she extricated a slip of paper and a pencil. A few words were sufficient to explain her impending absence and minutes later, Michaela was carefully opening the door to her room, her hair now hanging in smoothed waves over the thin shawl that habitually covered her shoulders. Noting the deserted status of the hospital corridors, she promptly stepped out, pulling the door quietly shut behind her.

A gust of air swept her note from its position on the coverlet, skimmed the stone floor and finally came to rest inches behind the door.

A fair distance from the hospital grounds, Michaela slowed her pace and breathing heavily, she glanced around. Her feet had carried her along a path of familiarity and she was standing on the corner of a narrow street that led directly to the river front. Frequently used as a thoroughfare between the city centre and the river, the street was swarming with individuals, slowly winding their way home as the day drew steadily to a close. Michaela wove her way deftly through the crowd and finally breaking free from the crush of bodies, emerged on the banks of the Charles.

The shadow of a great bridge fell on the few stalls that still cluttered the promenade, their owners clearly hoping to make a final sale before they too packed up for the day. Michaela walked leisurely past them, the Charles a wide, shimmering ribbon to her right, the shouts of the merchants and the lingering warmth of the evening sun lulling her into a sense of long desired serenity.

Ascending the large, steel steps to the top of the bridge, Michaela finally stopped and with satisfaction, surveyed the scene before her.

The town she had called home for so long was laid out before her, basking in the golden wake of the reddened disc now almost completely submerged in the depths of the Charles. The inky tinges of twilight blended with the rosy streaks lacing the horizon and as Michaela watched, the first stars began to emerge sleepily from behind the dusky clouds.

Yet even as she revelled in the incredible sight before her, Michaela felt an ache deep within her heart before unbidden, an image was forced upon her mind.

_She was standing on a cliff front, the grass scrubby and dry beneath her feet. Shivering slightly as the cool air hit her skin, she stared ahead, desperately trying to make out the scene before her. A figure beside her stirred and she opened her mouth to ask where they were, what they were doing. But the words never came. At that moment, the clouds shifted and the burning sphere of the setting sun was revealed to their sight. The dazzling rays immediately highlighted the darkened terrain and she gasped as the surrounding cliffs were transformed into mountains of pure burgundy, the peaks rising majestically against the sky._

"_It's beautiful" she murmured instinctively, though the words seemed wholly inadequate to describe the splendour of the natural wonder. An inexplicable sense of joy filled her heart as she heard the voice beside speak. "It's where I come when I've lost my way and I have to find it again."_

_She nodded in understanding, her very existence seemingly dwarfed by the force of the vision before them and her soul utterly connected with his as they stood together, on the top of their world._

Sully sat cross-legged on the grassy bank, staring thoughtfully out over the river. A cool breeze drifted from the water's edge and caressed his features, awakening him from his reverie. Glancing up, he was startled to see that the sun had already set and night was fast approaching.

In a desperate attempt to flee his fears, his uncertainty, he had found his way to the river and settled down, the gentle lap of the water against the pebbled shore gradually easing his mental turmoil. Wholly absorbed in his memories, the day had clearly passed him by without his acknowledgment.

Standing up, his muscles protesting somewhat against the strain, he caught sight of a figure standing alone on the bridge. Even at a distance, the form was identifiable as a woman and as Sully continued to gaze at her, he noted her petite, slim figure and delicate, bare hands clinging to the rail. "_Just like Michaela's" _he thought sadly to himself. His heart heaved as he once again thought about his fiancée; he knew that she was waiting to meet him, the trusted friend from Colorado. _Friend. _The word echoed mockingly in his mind, taunting him, challenging him. He knew he had been prolonging the moment when he would have to meet her; the bruises from their previous encounters were still darkening his heart's core and his mind doggedly protested against the infliction of fresh torment.

In an attempt to banish his painful thoughts, he turned to glance at the young woman once again. A single ray of fading sunlight hit her back and bounced off her long locks in a burst of copper light. Sully's mouth fell open with comprehension and as he watched her shake her head and set off across the bridge, a sigh escaped his lips, a name borne gently on its wings, "Michaela…"

Michaela hesitated, one hand tightening around the iron railing. Swallowing hard, she pushed open the gate and made her way along the gravel path, searching the grounds avidly until at length the marble tablet came in to view. Tears pricked at her eyes as she paused before it and read the inscription.

"Father," she murmured, as she extended one hand and ran it over the carven name before slowly settling herself down beside the grassy mound.

"I didn't know where else to go," she whispered sadly, "I'm so lost, so alone."

Only the occasional rustling of leaves disturbed the silence and looking up, Michaela's mind turned to the last time she had stood beneath those great oaks; the day she had left for Colorado.

"I was so afraid that morning," she said softly, vocalising her thoughts, "afraid to leave everything I had ever known behind, to start a new life without you. I didn't want to say goodbye, I didn't know how to. I wanted so much to make you proud and now.…."

Her voice broke slightly as she spoke and tears began to creep down her cheeks, the droplets silently watering the grave of her mentor, her guardian, her friend.

"I don't even know who I am anymore," she sobbed miserably, "I'm afraid and you're not here to help me, to hold me. I miss you so much Father, so much!"

Surrendering to her grief, Michaela buried her face in her hands and wept; wept for her father, wept for herself, her muffled cries splintering the deathly stillness of the graveyard.

Sully turned away and rested his back against the trunk of a large oak. His mind was racing and tears sprang to his eyes as Michaela's cries filled his ears. He longed to go to her side, to hold and comfort her. He had rarely heard Michaela talk about her father but what little she had told him had clearly been insufficient to describe the profound affection she had for him, the first man she had ever loved. Her passionate soliloquy had revealed a part of her soul that Sully had never known to exist and as the image of her trembling form slumped helplessly over the grave burnt into his heart, he began to comprehend the uniqueness of the relationship that had existed between father and daughter, how acutely Michaela had felt her father's passing, how intensely she still felt it.

During their courtship, he had only ever glimpsed the vulnerable, defenceless aspect of Michaela's nature. She had stoically buried her weakness beneath an exterior of independence and self-sufficiency, refusing to let it surface. Yet as he glanced around the tree trunk, he saw not a pithy, headstrong woman, but a young girl, overwhelmed by grief, calling out desperately for her father to protect her, to shield her from the cruel adversities of life.

Michaela suddenly turned her face skyward, the rising moon illuminating her tear stained cheeks and as he gazed at her desolate features, Sully felt moisture dampen his own cheeks, the weight of his suppressed emotions bringing him to his knees.

The grave yard had long been deserted before Sully could bring himself to move. Rising slowly, he made his way noiselessly down the path and out of the cemetery, the iron gates clanging closed behind him as he set off back along a street towards the river.

"Mr Sully!"

A voice behind him arrested his steps and he turned to see Dr Davis hurrying along the corridor towards him.

"Dr Davis?" said Sully, nodding slightly as the gentleman stopped before him and began fumbling in his coat pockets, clearly looking for something. "Something the matter?"

"The matter? Oh no!" replied the doctor, continuing his search, "If I could just find it….Ahh!"

Finally withdrawing a small piece of paper from his inner pocket, he turned to face Sully, who was regarding him with a slight frown.

"When I went to check on Dr Quinn last night, I was shocked to find that she was no where to be found" began Dr Davis.

"It's ok, I know," cut in Sully, "she was down by the river. I saw her there."

"Yes, I suspected she wanted to get out for a while," continued Dr Davis knowingly, "However, she left a note on the floor which puzzled me intensely. I thought perhaps it might make more sense to you."

So saying, he held out the slip he had been so frantically hunting for. Sully reached out for it, gazing at him with questions in his eyes but Dr Davis merely shook his head.

"Good day Mr Sully," he said quietly before retreating into one of the side rooms, leaving Sully quite alone.

Sully glanced down at the thin sheet held tightly in his hand. His stomach clenched as he recognised Michaela's distinctive script and swallowing hard over the lump that had appeared in his throat, he scanned the short message. Shock blanched his features and his grip on the note was suddenly released. It spiralled gently through the air, coming to rest face up on the hospital floor. The words stared back up at him, determinedly fixing his stunned gaze.

_I have lost my way and I need to leave to find it again,_

_M_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13:**_

A mop of blonde hair fell over his face as he bent low and hastily scribbled something on the small pad of paper in his lap. Lifting his head, he scanned his notes before once again leaning back against the velvety seat, his pencil immediately taken up its customary position in his mouth.

"Watcha writing Brian?"

Colleen shifted slightly and glanced over at her younger brother who was staring down at the sheet before him, apparently lost in thought.

"It's a list of things that happened in Colorado" replied Brian without looking up, "it's for Ma, to help her remember."

"Can I see?" asked Colleen interestedly.

"Sure" said Brian, handing over the pad before turning to his older brother, who lay stretched out over two seats, his hat tipped over his face. "Hey Matthew, how much longer d'ya think its gunna be? I wanna see Ma."

Matthew groaned as he slowly removed his hat and ran his hands through his hair. "I told you before Brian, we're still three days outta Boston and we aint gunna get there any faster with you askin' every five minutes."

Lack of sleep and continuous worrying had frayed the young man's nerves and his sibling's unrelenting onslaught of questions was sorely testing his patience. Sensing her older brother's anger simmering very close to the surface, Colleen sought to distract Brian's attention.

"I remember when the circus came to town," she reminisced, picking out a memory a fair way down the list, "I never saw nothing like that before."

"D'ya remember Heart, Colleen?" asked Brian eagerly, his youthful face immediately alight with excitement, "and how everyone wanted to be in her show? And how Ma and Sully did the trapeze? And how Mr Bray was a clown with me?"

"Course," replied Colleen, smiling at her brother's zealous response, "And d'ya remember Atlantis? She taught me to walk the tight rope real good."

Casting a sly look at her older brother who was feigning sleep beside her, she added teasingly, "and she was sweet on Matthew."

"She was _not_ sweet on me!" retorted Matthew firmly, opening his eyes wide to glare furiously at Colleen, his apparent state of slumber quite forgotten. "She knew I liked Ingrid!"

His siblings however, took no notice of his verbal response and promptly dissolved into fits of giggles.

"Hey!" he protested, swatting Colleen with his hat, "Cut it out!"

The look of sheer indignance on his face however, only made her giggle harder and Matthew found himself grinning in spite of himself. Unexpectedly reaching over, he yanked the list from Colleen's loosened grip and held it high above her head, waving it mischievously out of arm's reach.

Before long, the three children were scrambling over the seats, battling each other to regain the small sheet of paper, their gales of laughter echoing down the narrow corridor as the train continued its swift journey through the vast prairie lands towards St Louis.

Sully paused outside Michaela's door, his heart beating a heavy rhythm against his throat and his palms slicked with sweat. Steeling himself for what he was about to do, he extended a trembling hand to the door handle and prepared to turn it.

A sudden burst of laughter emanated from the room and Sully's hand slipped on the handle as he jerked back in surprise; he had not expected Michaela to have visitors so early in the day. His mind raced as he discerned Michaela's soft chuckles blended into the somewhat muffled conversation that had now struck up between her visitors and subconsciously, he took a step back. He couldn't do it.

Guilt instantly erupted from a molten pit in his stomach and gradually began to creep upwards, suffusing his heart with remorse and self disgust yet his mind staunchly refused to heed the myriad of emotions coursing through his veins. Here was a perfectly good reason why he couldn't see Michaela. It simply wasn't meant to be. Not today.

Taking a deep breath, trying desperately to quell the tide of sentiment surging within him, Sully turned his back on the door. He had barely stepped away from the threshold however, when the door opened. A gasp behind him halted his steps and he spun around, as two identical pairs of dark brown eyes met his gaze, both widened in surprise.

"Mr Sully!" exclaimed Rebecca, promptly recalling her manners after a moment's pause, "What are you doing here?"

"Rebecca….Marjorie," began Sully haltingly, his eyes drifting between the two women before him as his heart once again commenced beating frantically within his chest. "I just….I thought…I came to see Michaela."

Rebecca's eyes darkened with sympathy as she saw the fear flicker momentarily across Sully's features and she nodded in understanding.

"I'll let her know you're here," she replied softly and stepped back through the still open door.

Sully thrust his now clenched hands into his pockets and swallowed hard, his mind an incoherent jumble. Marjorie watched him compassionately, wholly comprehending his apprehension, but before she had a chance to initiate conversation, Rebecca had reappeared and approached Sully.

"She's waiting for you," she said quietly.

Sully merely nodded, the words sticking in his throat as he tried to formulate a reply.

Noting his pallor and the slight trembling of his frame, Rebecca placed a light hand on his arm.

"It will be alright," she reassured him, "don't worry."

"Michaela needs you" added Marjorie from beside her sister, "she needs you to be strong for her."

Squeezing his arm gently, Rebecca smiled encouragingly before gesturing subtly to Marjorie, wordlessly indicating their departure.

"I know," whispered Sully as the sisters retreated down the hallway, the words finally flowing as he regained a little of his composure, "I know."

With a final sigh, he stepped resolutely across the threshold and pushed open the door, the door to his destiny.

Michaela stood beside the window, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as though her very strength alone could control the feverish state which threatened to enrapture her mind and dissolve the aged barriers of propriety, giving free reign to the fountain of emotion amassing within her. Biting down hard on her lip, she lifted her gaze expectantly to the door. A shaft of sunlight fell across her cheek and for a fleeting moment Michaela closed her eyes, simply revelling in the warmth and comfort it provided. A slight shuffling close to immediately drew her attention and her eyes widened in shock as the beam of light hit the luminescent pair before her, transforming them into glowing lamps of deepest sapphire.

Sully stood stock still, the force of the image before him knocking the air out of his lungs. The early morning sunlight caressed Michaela's face, tingeing her cheek with a rosy hue and, settling on her dewy lips, extended delicate fingers down the column of her throat. Her lustrous locks hung in waves down her back, bathed in a sheen of liquid copper and as the beautiful, mismatched eyes opened up to the world, Sully felt his heart heave. He was falling in love with her, all over again.

Michaela felt the colour rush to her face as the intensity of his gaze shattered the fetters around her heart and splintered her soul. The memory of their previous encounter leapt to mind and the very recollection of it made her pulse race. Instantly ashamed of her inexplicable reaction and desperate to appear calm and unperturbed before her friend, she took a deep, steadying breath and stepped forward, extending her hand.

"Mr Sully," she said, smiling widely, "It's so good to finally meet you."

The heart that moments ago, had been swollen with love and hope was punctured once again at the sight of that small, pale hand. Sully's eyes darkened as he struggled against the knifing pain that now seared his soul, threatening to tear him apart. Tears stung his eyes yet he stoically set his jaw, denying them release.

Extending his own arm he grasped her delicate hand loosely in his own, the skin cool beneath his own.

"It's Sully," he replied quietly, "just Sully."

"Sully" repeated Michaela happily, shaking his hand firmly. "I …."

A blinding pain hit the back of her skull, and she broke off, gasping at the strength of the blow. Releasing Sully's hand she reached up and clutched at her temples, her features contorted in agony. A rush of wind filled her ears, deafening her as it pulled her down into the gaping chasm of her memory. From within the darkened depths, the images began to claw their way out from her mind and burst in a torrent of colour before her eyes.

_She was standing against the wall, strands of her hair falling free of the loosening bun, defeat and exhaustion marring her features. Pain had hollowed her heart and in sheer desperation, the tears began to fall. The moisture trickled down her dirt smudged cheeks and dripped off her chin, landing on his outstretched hand. Reaching out, he pulled her gently against his shoulder, his soft touch against her hair a soothing balm to her charred soul, a comfort as she wept, the heart wrenching sobs of a mother._

_The delicate lace of her gown shimmered in the candle lit room as he took her hand and led her away from the table. A familiar melody began to play and he placed his hand on her waist, guiding her steadily through the elegant waltz. She smiled at the look of concentration on his face and relaxed against his arm, losing herself in the music, in the movements of the dance. _

_He sat behind her, squeezing her shoulders and providing comfort as they waited together for dawn to begin the search...He gazed at her, pride reflected in his eyes as she accepted the rose and smiled slightly at him…. He stood near a wooden shack, his arms aloft, swearing he would find her as the horse cantered through the tall grass towards the wood….He was there….he was always there…_

_Sully….Sully…Sully…._

"Mi…Dr Mike! Are you alright?"

Michaela slowly opened her eyes and they widened with fear as she registered the individual standing before her. She took a step away from him before replying.

"You knew," she whispered, her whole body trembling, "you knew….and you didn't tell me."

"What d'ya mean?" asked Sully confusedly, edging closer to her "what didn't I tell you?"

"You knew who I was, you knew all about me and you didn't tell me!" exclaimed Michaela, continuing to back away from Sully, her voice now louder, bitter and filled with ire.

"It wasn't like that, I wanted to tell you but…." began Sully patiently, but Michaela did not heed his response. All the fear, all the frustration she had endured, the very injustice of her situation seemed suddenly unbearable and Michaela felt as though she might burst from the pain of it.

"How could you let this happen to me? How! I thought you were my friend!" she shouted, tears beginning to flow freely down her cheeks. "Stay away from me, Sully! Just stay away."

Sully watched disconsolately as Michaela collided with the back wall and slowly slid down it, a shivering, sobbing, wretched bundle. For a few moments he was still, his heart aching for her, with her, before noiselessly he approached and gently extended his hand to caress the curved back. She flinched at the contact but did not draw away. Choking back his own tears, Sully ran his hand down her arm, tenderly uncurling her and drawing her towards him.

"Shhhh" he whispered as she continued to weep uncontrollably, "It's gunna be alright."

Gradually easing her up into an upright position, he softly wiped away the tears staining her cheeks with his fingertips.

"Let's get some fresh air," he suggested, smiling slightly.

Michaela nodded her assent and allowed herself to be steered from the suddenly repellent confines of the hospital room.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 14:**_

Sully led Michaela through the maze of empty corridors to the back of the hospital, to the garden where they had first met. His hand at the small of her back, he guided her gently to the small, rusted bench in the centre and stood before her, waiting as she mechanically seated herself. She had still not spoken and Sully gazed worriedly at her blank, expressionless face. The fire that had ignited in her eyes as the pain poured from her soul had petered out, leaving behind two hollows that cast out darkened beams, dousing her whole face in shadow. The warm rays of sunlight that showered the garden seemed unable to penetrate the icy cage that surrounded her and as Sully watched, her body continued to shiver and shake. Hastily removing his fringed jacket, he placed it carefully around her shoulders, pulling the edges close under her chin in an attempt to shield her from the apparent cold. Yet she remained motionless, seemingly oblivious of her surroundings. Sully moved to sit beside her and turning towards her, he attempted to engage her attention.

"Dr Mike?" he called soothingly, as though speaking to a frightened child. She did not respond yet Sully detected a flicker of interest dart across her marble hewn features.

"Dr Mike," he repeated, this time a little louder, "are you alright?"

Slowly and very quietly, as though every word sapped the strength from her soul, she spoke, her voice tremulous as she continued to shiver despite the heavy jacket.

"Is…..is that…what they call me….?"

"Yeh," replied Sully, inwardly relieved that she had not entirely withdrawn into herself as she was so often prone to do, "s'what folks back in Colorado call ya"

Michaela gave an almost imperceptible nod and encouraged by her albeit meagre response, Sully continued.

"Ya always said your father thought you'd be a boy so he called ya Mike. The name sorta stuck."

"And what about you Sully" asked Michaela curiously, turning her head for the first time to meet his glance, "what do you call me?"

Sully dropped his gaze, his heart suddenly racing. The question was quite understandable, but he seemed at a loss as to the answer. It seemed ridiculous that something so simple as how they would address one another struck him so profoundly. Yet to Sully the very fact that he could address Michaela by her first name seemed to epitomise the deep trust that had existed between them, as friends and then lovers, and that set their relationship firmly apart from any other.

Thus it was with a distinctly heavy heart that Sully, without raising his eyes addressed the stranger beside him.

"I call ya Dr Mike too."

A protracted silence filled the garden as both Sully and Michaela sat side by side, two hearts overflowing with emotion, two minds struggling against the past and two souls trying unsuccessfully to shatter the impenetrable wall between them. As they sat, the sounds of nature filling her ears, a single tear crept down Michaela's cheek and dripped miserably onto the leather collar under her chin. Lifting her arm slightly to wipe away the moisture, she struggled to choke back the sob welling at the back of her throat. Her movements however, caught Sully's attention and he turned to face her again, his heart breaking as the sunlight illuminated the thin river glistening along the contours of her cheek. Sensing his eyes on her, Michaela forced back her tears and staring ahead at nothing in particular, voiced a question that had long been haunting her thoughts.

"Why did this have to happen to me? Did I do something wrong, that I'm being punished for?"

"Don't go talkin' like that Dr Mike," interjected Sully fervently, "You aint done nothin' wrong. Sometimes things happen in life that ya just can't control. But you're strong. You're gunna get through this. You're gunna remember."

"But how Sully, how can I possibly hope to remember?" asked Michaela sadly, her tear filled eyes rising to meet his darkened gaze, "There's so much I've lost."

Her voice trailed off, as several glittering beads, fuelled by her sorrow, spilled uncontrollably over her eyelashes.

Sully watched her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.

"The Cheyenne say that our first teacher is our own heart," he began softly, "Your heart remembers Dr Mike even if your mind don't. All ya gotta do is listen to your heart."

The power of his words, not least the gentle certainty with which they were spoken touched Michaela's heart and she stared at him for a moment before reaching up to brush away the traces of her tears.

"Tell me about Colorado Sully," she requested, smiling slightly "tell me about my home, please."

The long, black cloak flapped behind him as he made his way surreptitiously down the corridor, pausing every so often to glance into the side rooms, evidently looking for someone. Yet as he passed several rooms without discovering what he sought, frustration began to impress itself on his features. Turning a corner, he noted a well dressed although somewhat rotund gentleman standing alone, writing steadily in a file balanced precariously in his hands. Hastily removing his brushed top hat, the stranger stepped forward, preparing to accost him.

Dr Davis looked up from his notes to see a tall gentleman walking towards him. He was passed middle age, the curling hairs at his temples already heavily speckled with dusky grey. His eyes were a piercing slate under the furrowed brow and despite the creases about his mouth he would undoubtedly have been denoted a handsome man. Even as he curiously surveyed the man before him, the young doctor could not control the frown that darkened his own features. The gentleman seemed strangely familiar.

"Excuse me; I am looking for Dr Quinn. I was told she would be here."

The gentleman's accent was pure when he spoke and clearly reflected the elegance of an upper class upbringing.

"She's not here at the moment" replied Dr Davis, somewhat warily, "I expect she will be back later in the day."

Disappointment immediately coloured the stranger's features but he did not allow it to bow him.

"I see" he said quietly, slowly replacing his hat, "I am very sorry to have disturbed you."

Pulling his cloak tightly around himself and squaring his shoulders, he set off back down the corridor. He had barely gained the corner however, when the voice of the doctor drew his attention and he stopped.

"If you tell me your name Sir, I could inform Dr Quinn of your visit on her return."

Glancing back momentarily, he replied "William, Dr William Burke" before turning aside and disappearing from sight.

The midday sun extended its temperate rays over the occupants of the small garden, engulfing them in a cocoon of comfort and warmth. Silence had once again fallen between them as they sat, motionless beside one another, strings of the past pulling strongly on both hearts.

Michaela was the first to stir. She had listened intently as Sully patiently recounted the memories of her home town, the townsfolk who inhabited it, her patients, her friends. Yet with each passing minute, she had found herself sinking further into despair. Her mind had staunchly resisted her every attempt to pry it open, to delve into its darkened midst until finally she had abandoned hope, simply allowing the waves of despondency to crash unhindered against her soul.

The stillness of the garden seemed almost deafening and in an earnest attempt to curb the frustration building up within her, Michaela clenched her hands into tight fists and without thinking, plunged them into the pockets of Sully's jacket. Her right hand immediately collided with something hard and cold, nestling comfortably against the soft leather lining. Curiously her fingers closed over the object, barely registering the flat, polished surface before withdrawing it from the darkness and as the sunlight gleamed along the brass surface, her eyes widened in surprise.

"I'd forgotten 'bout that."

Sully's voice broke into the torrent of thoughts that were suddenly raging uncontrolled through her mind.

"I picked it up right before I left Colorado. I don't really know why but I figured maybe you might wanna have it with you."

Michaela did not seem to heed his explanation. As if in a reverie, she ran her hand lovingly over the carven words, her eyes dark with memory, a sad smile forming on her face. It was many minutes before the words came, quiet at first and laced with long suppressed grief.

"It ….it was the day of my graduation. I waited in the hallway for so long, hoping, praying that maybe Mother had changed her mind, that perhaps she would come. Or at least send one of my sisters. I heard the professor in the hall stand up; he began to call out the names. I forced myself to go back inside, to follow my friends onto the platform, to collect my certificate. But it meant nothing to me. I had no-one to share it with, I was alone. And then I heard his voice behind me and there he was, standing tall and proud, smiling so happily. He held me close and told me that he had never doubted me, that he had complete faith in me as a doctor, as a daughter. He gave me this."

Sully stared down at the small, brass shingle held tightly in her hand and his eyes travelled across the well remembered words carved into its surface:

_M Quinn, MD_

"Thank you Sully," whispered Michaela, finally raising her tear filled eyes to meet his, "thank you so much for bringing it back to me."


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15:**_

"Dr Mike" called Sully pushing open the door to her room, "are ya ready to g…"

The words froze on his lips and his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene before him. His disdainful glance immediately fell on the individual in the seat beside Michaela's, the mere sight of the figure as repugnant as it had been the day he had abruptly left Boston over a year ago, fury flooding his frame as the painful memories resurfaced in his mind.

A tense silence filled the room as the two gentlemen glowered at each other, Sully's features becoming harsher with each passing moment until his ocean blue eyes were completely transformed into dark, bubbling pits of ire that threatened to shoot sparks at any moment. Frowning slightly, Michaela's gaze shifted curiously between her two visitors, struggling to comprehend the animosity that clearly existed between them, before finally coming to rest on Sully's face. His handsome features were barely recognisable so warped were they by the wrath that rigidly held his body, statue like before her. Yet she was not perturbed. Instead she found herself gazing steadily beyond the darkness in his eyes to the portion of his soul that lay exposed in its depths. Her mind reeled as she registered the emotion engrained there. Fear.

"Mr Sully," began William quietly, his face pale and drawn, "a pleasure to see you again."

"You two know each other?"

The demeanour of her two visitors rendered Michaela's question somewhat redundant yet she was intrigued as to how such an odd acquaintance had been formed and more importantly, what had happened between them to create such indisguisable acrimony.

"Yes, I had the privilege of meeting Mr Sully during his visit to Boston about a year ago" replied William. Sully's jaw visibly clenched at these words, an act not lost on the speaker.

"But perhaps I should be leaving," he continued, hastily standing and picking up his hat, "I see you have plans and I have no desire to intrude."

"Thank you for coming by William," said Michaela, rising to stand beside him, "I appreciate your concern"

"Not at all," replied William sedately, "Good day to you."

Chancing a glance at Sully as he gained the door, he made as if to bid him farewell but the austere expression on the former's face quashed his courage and he left without another word.

An awkward silence filled the small room and Michaela directed her gaze to Sully once again. He remained immutable, a carven figure in the centre of the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest and dark eyes fixed angrily on the chair that William had so recently vacated, seemingly lost in thought. Michaela picked up her shawl from where it lay on the bed and cautiously approaching Sully, placed a pale hand on his taut arm.

"Sully?" she called tentatively, "Shall we go now?"

Beneath her tender touch, she felt him relax a fraction and as he turned to her, nodding his assent, she noted the darkness in eyes thankfully beginning to dissipate.

"So, where are we going?" she asked lightly, the corners of her mouth turning up in anticipation.

"It's a surprise," replied Sully cryptically, his features visibly softening as he observed the rosy blush trace the contours of her cheeks. Smiling slightly, he extended his arm and grasping the small hand loosely in his own, he guided Michaela gently out of the door.

The sidewalk was teeming with a jostling crowd as Michaela and Sully meandered their way through the mass of starched skirts and brushed suits, emerging somewhat breathless at a street corner, where two horses stood patiently, their tinted coats gleaming in the bright sunshine, awaiting their riders. As Sully approached the animals, they leaned towards him, rubbing their velvety noses contentedly against the leathery arm he extended to caress their thick manes. Crooning softly to them, Sully reached out and carefully untied the bridles from around the adjacent lamp post and turned to Michaela.

"Are…are they for us?" stammered Michaela, glancing warily at the dapple grey playfully nudging Sully's ear.

"Yep," replied Sully smiling, "thought we might go for a ride."

"Oh, I don't know Sully," said Michaela glancing down, suddenly embarrassed, "I...I can't ride here, it isn't, isn't…"

"Isn't proper?" finished Sully with a slight grin. "I figured ya might say that."

Michaela looked up hopefully into Sully's sparkling eyes.

"I can lead the horses till we get outta town. There's a trail not too far from here, goes into a small wood. We can go that way s'long as ya don't mind the walk."

"Of course not," answered Michaela, much relieved, "May I?"

She extended her hand for the bridle and Sully happily handed over the playful grey to her care. Grabbing the bridle of his own chestnut mare, Sully slowly led the way from the hustle and bustle of the city centre into the peaceful wilderness of nature.

"Don't worry Dr Mike, we're gunna take it real slow."

In the shade of a large oak, Sully placed one hand on the neck of Michaela's horse to calm it and extended the other to help her mount. Gripping the saddle with her left hand and using Sully's hand to support her right side, Michaela carefully hoisted herself up, taking a moment to steady herself.

"Y'alrite?" asked Sully, looking up earnestly at her expressionless face.

Michaela nodded without meeting his gaze. Examining her for a minute and finally satisfied that she was comfortable, Sully walked over to his horse and prepared to mount up. Unbeknownst to him however, Michaela was much more at her ease than he realised and was eager to test her skill. An innate sense of ability had overridden her initial fears and almost subconsciously her legs curled against the flanks of her horse whilst her hands eagerly grasped the reins.

"Ya ready?" came Sully's gentle voice from beside her.

"Yes," replied Michaela, barely suppressing a giggle and dug her heels into the sides of her horse, urging him forwards. The animal shot off like a rocket, bounding across the woody landscape, a tail of auburn hair flying in its wake, like a kite caught in a high breeze.

Sully sat agape for several minutes before a snatch of Michaela's laughter carried on the wind reached his ears and the realisation of the comical situation hit him. Forcing his horse forwards, he sped off along the trail, determined that this was one race he was not going to lose.

Michaela had already dismounted and was happily caressing her sweating steed when Sully rode up and leapt easily out of the saddle. The look of sheer indignation of his face struck her as highly amusing and before she could control it, she was doubled over in fits of laughter.

"I'm…I'm sorry," she managed to utter between giggles.

Sully however had quite forgotten his façade of displeasure and was observing her with a keen eye. The excitement of the race and her present jubilance had illuminated her face, crowning her complexion with a healthy glow. Her eyes sparkled and she seemed much more relaxed than she had been all week. He gazed contentedly at the natural beauty for a moment before turning away, barely hiding his satisfied smile in the coat of the faithful mare.

The beams of sunshine filtered through the leafy canopy converting the woodland floor into a chequered array of light and shadows. Sully sat thoughtfully munching an apple while Michaela brushed the crumbs from her skirt and tucked a few loose tendrils of hair behind her ears. Glancing at her companion, she ventured to break the peaceful silence that had fallen between them.

"Sully, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied interestedly, turning his bright eyes on her.

His heart contracted as her words rang in his ears.

"Have you ever been enagaged?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Michaela regretted them. A crimson blush rose in her cheeks and with dismay she watched Sully's previously relaxed features instantly assume a closed air and his eyes cloud over, breaking contact with her own.

"I mean…I don't mean to be forward….it's just, it's just your young and….well you know so much about me but I know so little about you," she stammered by way of compensation, her tone almost pleading "I didn't mean to offend you…. Sully?"

It was several moments before Sully raised his bowed head and without meeting Michaela's gaze he replied in a flat tone, "Yeh I was engaged once, fact is I was even married. We were real young when we fell in love and her Pa was against us marryin' so early. But we did anyway and 'fore long Abby was pregnant."

"What happened to her?" asked Michaela curiously.

"She died," answered Sully, "she died giving birth to our daughter, Hanna. They're buried next to Abby's Ma in Colorado Springs."

"I'm sorry," murmured Michaela, swallowing over the heavy lump that had formed in her throat, "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Sully shrugged, his expression neutral yet the irony of his words an inescapable agony.

"S'alright, ya couldn't have known."

Wholly ashamed at herself for her thoughtless comment, Michaela cast her mind around, searching desperately for a distraction, anything to restore the serene companionship of moments ago. Her eyes fell on Sully's belt that lay merely feet away, the sunlight gleaming off the silvery blade of his tomahawk nestled safely in the leathery strap. Running a finger tentatively over the sharpened curve, Michaela asked haltingly, "Did you make this?"

Sully forcibly doused out the glowing embers of anguish that had been threatening to inflame and consume his heart during the protracted silence and turned once again to Michaela.

"No it was a gift" he replied simply, "s'real useful."

Michaela gazed wondrously at the delicate craftsmanship and gently fingered the smooth, wooden handle.

"It's so beautiful," she commented, smiling slightly, "but so heavy. I wonder how you ever manage to use it."

"Well, I'll show ya" suggested Sully, immediately rising to his feet.

"Oh no Sully, I didn't mean…." began Michaela, dropping the tomahawk, decidedly embarrassed.

"Come on, 'less of course you're afraid," teased Sully.

"I'm not afraid," retorted Michaela immediately, setting her jaw and rising to stand beside him.

Sully smiled at the erect figure beside him, her delicate features blanched by determination, the eyes dark and narrowed. Moving to stand behind her, he pointed with his left hand.

"See that oak tree, that's what you're aiming for."

When Michaela merely nodded, he extended his right hand and positioned the tomahawk carefully in her grasp. Her hand instantly dropped under the unexpected weight of the blade. However the ever cautious Sully caught her wrist and gently placed his hand atop her own.

"What…what next Sully?" murmured Michaela, her heart pounding inexplicably in her chest.

"Well ya can't just throw it or you'll miss" answered Sully.

Michaela turned slightly, their hands still joined over the wooden handle.

"Then how do…." she began.

"Ya gotta trust, trust with your heart and your mind, believe completely that you won't miss" replied Sully quietly.

"I'm not so sure I can trust my mind at the moment, or my heart for that matter," stated Michaela grimly.

"Then trust mine," breathed Sully against her ear.

Michaela closed her eyes, her mind racing, her heart momentarily revelling in the feel of Sully's chest against her back, his warm breath waving the light curls around around her temple, his strong arm supporting hers.

Yet as realisation suddenly struck her, she forced open her eyes, staunchly ignoring the flush that rose to her cheeks and taking a deep breath fixed her eyes on the target before her, deliberately obliterating any thought from her mind save the gnarled trunk, the curve of the branches, the gentle rustling of the leaves in the breeze…..

In the gathering twilight, a figure emerged from the hospital, the shadows of the building falling heavily on its face, masking it from view. The previously bustling street was now deserted and as the sound of an approaching horse echoed in the darkness, the figure pressed itself hastily against the wall, a concealed observer in the gloom.

The rider cantered slowly up the abandoned path coming to halt just outside the hospital, and in the golden glow of a streetlight, the hidden form noted the additional horse, its bridle tied securely to the first, its coat shimmering silver against the dark chestnut of its mate.

With great care, the first rider dismounted and reaching back up, gently lifted a small bundle. Placing it tenderly on the ground, the bundle unfurled its limbs and leaning heavily against the rider, allowed itself to be led into the candlelit entrance of the hospital. As the twinkling lights illuminated the tired faces, the shadow in the corner smiled and nodding to the approaching night, retreated silently down a cobbled alleyway.

It was time.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 16:**_

_The rain was falling unrelentingly against the fern branches forming the meagre shelter over their heads. She could almost taste the dampness in the air as she lay quite still, her jaw clenched against the throbbing pain in her wrist, desperate not to betray any sign of weakness to him. She could sense him lying so close beside her, his breaths falling softly against her tangled hair, a very beacon of warmth and comfort. Her hand reached out shakily, fumbling and colliding with his, drawing him to her heart, her sole security in the darkness of the night…_

_She ran her hand down the crimson silk, revelling in the richness of the fabric, the intricate design. As a hand touched her shoulder, she turned and she faced him, smiling shyly as he took her hand, leading her into an elegant waltz. Resting her head lightly against his shoulder her eyes travelled across the room, finally locking with a pair beside the door. Tears sprung to her eyes as the torture reflected in those blue depths seared her soul and she lifted her head to gaze confusedly into the slate grey ones smiling down at her…._

_The whistle blew signalling the imminent departure of the train and she felt the engine shuddering into life beneath her feet. Undaunted, she hurried aboard, her heart racing as she darted from carriage to carriage; she had to find him, she needed to know._

"_Why did you even come here?" she asked furiously, trying desperately to stem the tears trickling from her reddened eyes._

"_Because…" he replied moodily._

"_Because?" she demanded._

"_Because I……"_

Michaela shot up in bed, her breathing ragged and her heart thundering in her chest. Reaching up, she felt the moisture dampening her cheeks. It had all seemed inexplicably real; She had been so happy, so miserable, so certain, so confused. Leaning forwards, she clutched her head as though her own strength could prevent the memories from fading away, from forming the tangled web that continued to ensnare her thoughts. _What does it all mean? _she asked herself miserably, before surrendering to her tears in utter futility.

A lone candle burned low on the wooden desk, casting a narrow beam of light over the wrinkled hand that held the golden pen in a convulsive grip. For a moment, it was still, poised over the thin sheet before it plunged resolutely into the ink well, and slowly began to etch the words, each flick of the pen a blackened curl against the creamy paper. The note was brief and before long the pen was once again residing in its stand.

The aged hand reached for the brass handle of the drawer and silently slid it open, carefully withdrawing a small object from its depths. It glinted momentarily in the amber glow and a thin, hesitant finger ran across it, fingering the flawless surface. With a barely audible sigh, the object was hidden alongside the script within the confines of an envelope and placed by the now snuffed out candle to await the dawn.

Sully sat by the window, watching as the rosy beams of the rising sun began to penetrate the shroud of darkness, cheerfully heralding the start of another day. Sleep had been a stranger to him since his arrival and he passed most nights simply pacing up and down his room like a troubled spirit, hoping, wishing, praying. On the rare occasion that his eyes did droop shut out of sheer exhaustion, he was invariably plagued by such painful dreams of his past that would awaken him almost immediately and he would once again resume his movements.

As the sky visibly lightened under his gaze, Sully's mind turned to the previous day's events and he finally allowed free reign to the emotions he had so fastidiously mastered in Michaela's presence. His heart heaved as he recalled how near he had approached her, yet how far she still seemed to be to him, too far to reach. Closing his eyes he could almost smell the sweet fragrance of her hair, hear the gentle timbre of her laugh and feel her slight form tremble against him as their hands had linked together for those few bittersweet moments. Yet opening his eyes, the vision was lost to him and he was once again faced with the harsh reality, the cold emptiness that always followed his wakening reverie.

Sighing, Sully rubbed at his tired eyes and turned away from the window. A muffled sound outside his door instantly drew his attention and he was still, listening intently. A swift glance at the mantel piece assured him that it was still too early for regular folk to be awake, yet the unmistakable shuffling of stocking clad feet drew closer. Just as the footsteps reached his door, they stopped and Sully rose noiselessly from his seat, awaiting the low knock that would certainly follow to announce the visitor's arrival. However, it never came. Instead, a small, white envelope was thrust under the door and the footsteps instantly resumed; The deliverer was leaving. Sully stood bewildered for several moments and the sound of the footsteps had long since faded away before he moved to pick up the mysterious package. Frowning at the lack of address on the front, he turned the envelope over and deftly slit open the top. His eyes widened in shock at the small object that had fallen into his outstretched hand and lay glinting in the morning sunshine. Mutely, he unfolded the small slip of paper still nestling in the folds of the envelope.

_This belongs to you and I happily return it now to your safe keeping_

Michaela was waiting for him by the window as he entered the bright room, and though she greeted him smilingly, Sully immediately registered the dark shadows beneath her bright eyes that belied her pleasant demeanour. Evidently, his were not the only night borne troubles. His brow furrowed in concern and perhaps Michaela picked up on his astute judgement of her charade for though it was rather early for lunch, she insisted she was too hungry to wait and that they leave at once.

Picnic basket in hand, the two made their way along the familiar path towards the river front. The sustained warm sunshine had drawn many people out of doors and the promenade was heaving with life. Ambling together along a narrow path, Sully and Michaela headed towards a grassy mound away from the animated crowd, peacefully situated in the shade of a slumbering silver beech. The raised ground afforded a majestic view of the surrounding area and for several minutes they merely sat in awed silence, watching the sun's rays sparkle ceaselessly on the clear stretch of water before them.

"And I brought pecan pie for afters," concluded Sully, placing the humble dessert down with a flourish.

"My favourite," replied Michaela, smiling broadly.

"I know," teased Sully but to his dismay, the smile fell and the compelling eyes before him assumed a dark, anguished expression.

"I'm sorry Dr Mike, I didn't mean to upset ya" he murmured regretfully.

"I know you didn't Sully," said Michaela, raising her eyes to meet his concerned ones, "it's just so incredibly frustrating, not knowing what I'm missing, what I've forgotten. Sometimes …." her voice trailed off in self doubt.

"Sometimes what?" probed Sully encouragingly.

"Sometimes I….I feel like I'm stranded in the middle of the ocean of my memory," she continued quietly, "and every time I try to catch a wave of thought, it just trickles right through my fingers. I've been trying so hard to remember but nothing seems to make any sense," she finished sadly.

"Maybe you should quit tryin' so hard then," quipped Sully, as unbidden a memory crossed his own mind.

"I guess it's an old habit of mine, wanting all the answers at once," replied Michaela smiling slightly in spite of herself.

"Well, give it up," answered Sully, the expression in his deep blue eyes unfathomable.

"Perhaps I should," said Michaela, "now let's eat."

Michaela shifted against the hard ground and sighed contentedly. She glanced over at Sully sitting cross legged beside her and though he tried to shield his eyes with his hand he couldn't completely disguise the involuntary grimace that had crossed his countenance as a ray of sunshine fell full on his face. Instantly concerned she turned towards him.

"Sully," she asked softly, "are you feeling alright?"

"S'just a headache," replied Sully, squinting against the suddenly unbearable light, "it'll pass."

"Is it another migrum?" enquired Michaela, reaching forwards to place a cool hand to his flushed forehead.

"Another?" repeated Sully, hastily drawing away from her soothing touch and forcing open his eyes to gaze at her in astonishment.

"Yes of course, don't you remember?" continued Michaela with a puzzled expression, "you had one when David came to town, out in the woods and then you….."

The words withered on her lips and her eyes widened in stunned realisation, the implications of her restored memory inescapable. Slowly Sully reached into his pocket and withdrew a small object. A shaft of sunlight hit the crystalline tip and momentarily dazzled Michaela's gaze in a shifting kaleidoscope of colour. As a small wisp of cloud skimmed across the offending ray, the object held out to her was suddenly revealed to her sight. Her engagement ring.

_She stood alone, drawing her shawl tightly against the February chill, willing herself to ignore the hollow feeling in her heart as she watched him gallop away into the distance, away from her. For a moment, she considered going after him, calling him back, telling him how desperately she wanted to be with him, to hold him, to love him. Yet instantly ashamed for her selfish thoughts she forced back her tears and turned away. It's just another day after all, she told herself, just another day. _

Delicate droplets glistened on her eyelashes as she gazed at the golden band before her, her voice unsteady as she spoke.

"You….you proposed to me" she whispered brokenly, "Valentine's day….you….you came back early….and you…."

Unable to continue, Michaela swallowed hard, thin, salty streams now running unchecked down her cheeks.

"Michaela," breathed Sully, his heart aching as he observed her despair. Reaching out tenderly for left hand he made to slip the ring back into its rightful position.

Ignoring the thrill of her heart at the tender utterance of her name, Michaela hastily withdraw her hand from Sully's reach and trembling, rose to her feet.

"I…..I can't ….can't marry you Sully," she stated, the sudden agony reflected in his eyes threatening to rent her very soul in two.

"I can't marry you," she repeated, "because….I don't know you."

Forcibly turning away from him, she took a deep, steadying breath and set off back towards the river. Once satisfied she was out of Sully's sight, she broke into a wild run, her fear, her memory driving her forward, the tears continuing to fall and the wounds of her heart bleeding so unremittingly, she doubted if they would ever truly heal again.

His very nerves vibrated as her words echoed dully in his ears and as she began to walk away from him, his fist clenched over the ring, an uncontrollable rain of hot tears watering the hard, cracked earth before him. The injustice of his plight seemed entirely too much to bear alone and Sully felt his spirit break beneath the weight of his struggles. He could never again rise from his position a whole man for a part of his soul had gone and he had been powerless to stop it. Opening his fist to gaze at the now wretched testimony to his courtship, he noticed its oddly darkened shade. The diamond had cut into his skin and blood had smeared across the band, tarnishing it with the acrid hue of human misery.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 17:**_

Michaela stood on the stone step, arms wrapped tightly around her still trembling form, her mind in tumult. Her feet had followed a familiar path to sanctuary and as she waited for admittance, fresh tears began to meander their way along the already stinging trails.

The door opened and Michaela raised her reddened eyes to those of the housekeeper, silently communicating what her words could not. Startled by the bedraggled appearance of the young lady, the housekeeper immediately stood aside and as Michaela stepped shakily over the threshold she peered wonderingly at the bowed head, the contorted features, the flushed and dampened cheeks. Wordlessly she preceded the visitor down the panelled hallway and led her directly to the sitting room where the mistress sat by the empty fireplace, her dark curls bouncing in the sunshine as she concluded a lengthy correspondence.

At the sight of her older sister, Michaela could no longer contain the sob that had risen up in her throat and reaching up she buried her face unhappily in her hands. The soft brown eyes instantly turned their attention towards her and filled with concern for her sibling, Rebecca hurried to her side.

"Michaela," she began, tenderly removing the hands that shielded the distressed individual from view, "Michaela, what ever's the matter?"

Blinking back the descent of a fresh bout of tears, Michaela raised her wounded eyes to the compassionate pair before her, her heart stumbling over the unfamiliar term.

"I….I'm….engaged?"

The late afternoon sun shone full on his face as he slowly traced the long, dismal path back towards the hospital. He didn't know how long he had aimlessly wandered the narrow streets, the occasional bump from an irate individual barely catching his attention before he was once again submerged in his anguish. Perhaps it had been minutes or hours. To his tangled mind, time was of no consequence. Thoughts, memories, hope, all had been extinguished, withered like a rose caught in a sudden winter snap. His heart that had so ached as though held in an iron vice had turned cold and from this frozen centre spread an icy numbness that engulfed his entire being in hollow isolation. He was lost and he welcomed it.

"Sully! Sully!"

A voice called out to him and as he turned slowly in the direction of the shout, his clouded eyes scarcely had time to register the blond headed blur that shot at him before he felt the slight form collide with his knees, the arms immediately encircling his waist. Bending down, he pulled the young boy close to his heart and drawing comfort from his son, the stupor in which he had thus to been held began to dissipate.

"Hey Brian," he murmured, his voice shaking with emotion, "s'good to see ya."

Brian detached himself from Sully's neck and surveyed the face before him with delight.

"I sure missed you Sully, we all did, even Wolf but don't worry cos Robert E promised to take real good care of him while we're away."

"That's good," replied Sully, smiling at the boy's exuberance, "s'real good."

"Sully?"

Another voice called tentatively from above him and Sully stood up to greet his daughter.

"Hey Colleen," he said softly, observing the unkempt hair, the eyes dark with exhaustion and the small hands twisted together in uncertainty.

Opening his arms slightly to the hesitant form, he silently welcomed her into his embrace, gently stroking the long, tangled locks as the tears began to rain down on his shoulder.

"I missed you Sully," whispered Colleen between sobs, "and Ma too. So much."

Gently releasing her from his grasp, he wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

"I know ya did Colleen," he reassured her, "and your Ma misses you too. Soon as you've had a rest we can go see her."

"Really?" said Colleen, gradually calming herself in the face of such assurance.

"Promise," replied Sully with a smile.

Brian came up his older sister and wrapped his arms comfortingly around her waist. Watching them for a moment, Sully then turned his attention to other two figures standing aside from the tearful group. Matthew swallowed hard as he awkwardly approached his friend, his hat shifting restlessly before him. Sully extended his hand to the young man and addressed him quietly.

"Thanks Matthew, for bringing them here."

"S'no problem," replied Matthew, suddenly more at ease as he gripped the hand in his own, "how's Dr Mike doin'?"

"Perhaps we should discuss this at home?"

Sully turned to meet Marjorie's gaze and silently thankful for her timely interjection, nodded his assent. Putting an arm around Colleen's shoulders and grabbing Brian's hand, he hurriedly followed Marjorie and Matthew the short distance to the Quinn residence.

Michaela sat in an armchair before the now blazing fire, a small, lace handkerchief held tightly in her grasp. The tears had abated but every so often a stray droplet would trickle down her cheeks and drip unceremoniously off her chin. Rebecca observed her younger sister wordlessly, well comprehending her confusion and sadness yet unable to find the words of comfort she so desperately wanted to bestow.

"Why….why didn't you tell me?"

Michaela's miserable tone broke the silence and Rebecca felt a further pang at her heart as she replied.

"That you were enagaged? Oh I couldn't Michaela."

"Why not?" asked Michaela indignantly, "you told me everything else, about the accident, about my work, my children…."

"Michaela, please try and calm down," soothed Rebecca, "I know you're upset and you are quite justified in your anger. But you must try and understand that I couldn't possibly tell you the truth about Mr Sully."

"I don't underst…." began Michaela furiously, but Rebecca hastily interjected.

"Oh Michaela, how could I ever tell you what it is to be in love?" she stated kindly, "how could I hope to describe faithfully the emotion held in that first glance, the first touch, the first kiss?"

"Michaela," she continued, noting her sister's continued puzzlement, "some things are memories of your heart, not your mind and to even try and explain them to someone else would be utterly futile. You have to discover them for yourself."

"Rebecca," said Michaela, bowing her head in shame, "I'm sorry for getting so upset. I didn't mean to shout at you. I'm just, I'm so confused and I don't know what's going to happen and I'm…."

"You're afraid," finished her sister, putting a finger under her sibling's damp chin, "Oh Mike, of course you are. But Mr Sully is a good man, he respects you as a woman and as a doctor, and he'll wait for you, until you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready? What if…." began Michaela soulfully.

"You will be ready," assured her sister, "and when you are you'll know it."

"But how will..." interrupted Michaela again, her analytical mind unwilling to accept such an insidious response.

"Listen to me Mike," replied Rebecca firmly, "you can't control your heart, just as you can't force your mind to remember. So just take some time, get to know your family again and then see how things develop. And if you do finally decide to get engaged, it should because you want to, because your own heart tells you it's right, not on the whim of someone else."

Michaela nodded mutely, her mind finally beginning to grasp what her sister had been trying to say.

"Good," concluded Rebecca in a satisfied tone, "now let's have some tea before we have to get you back to the hospital."

"So how's Ma?"

"Brian!" chided Colleen from her seat across the table.

The small group had just finished tea and now that all the cake had been safely taken care of, Brian was eager to divert the conversation back to his mother.

"S'alright Colleen," said Sully, who in Elizabeth's absence was occupying the seat at the head of the table. Turning to the eager face at his right hand, he took a deep breath before replying.

"She's doin' much better. She remembers Charlotte and some about Colorado Springs, bits and pieces mainly."

"What about you Sully?" enquired Colleen shrewdly, examining his carefully neutral expression.

"Well," began Sully slowly, "she knows that I'm her friend, that I helped her out when she first came to Colorado…."

"Friend?" repeated Matthew, leaning back in his chair, "that all?"

"Yeh," interjected Brian, "don't she remember she loves ya?"

"It ain't that simple Brian," answered Sully patiently.

"But you're still getting' married ain't ya?" persisted the boy, oblivious to the pained expression progressively contorting Sully's features.

"Brian," said Colleen, who had been watching Sully's reaction attentively, "let Sully explain."

Sully smiled slightly at the astute young lady before venturing to relate the day's events.

"Dr Mike remembers that I proposed to her when David was in town and that I gave her the ring on Valentine 's Day." Pausing, Sully glanced sadly at the hopeful faces before him before continuing. "But… she said she can't marry me cos she don't remember anything before that."

"Sully," whispered Colleen tenderly, reaching out to grasp his hand as the two brothers sat in silence, clearly too stunned to comment.

"Don't worry Sully," she continued, "Ma loves you and she'll remember it, I know she will."

Fervently wishing he could convince his own heart as such, he squeezed the little hand before clearing his throat and addressing the group.

"Come on, go get your coats and we can go see your Ma."

Michaela sat in a chair beside her bed; knees curled up under her skirt and head resting on her hand, wholly lost in thought. The final rays of evening sunshine played happily across her coppery locks and gently caressed the contours of her face, basking it in a golden hue. It was upon this sight that Sully happened to enter the room and the full force of his loss seemed suddenly to manifest itself mockingly before him.

Starting at the sound of his footsteps, Michaela leapt from her seat and raising her gaze, prepared to greet her visitor. Her heart contracted painfully at the torment she saw momentarily reflected in the azure depths before it was hastily shrouded in indifference.

"Sully I…." she began, stepping forward.

"I brought some people to see ya," interrupted Sully, his tone neutral yet barely concealing an underlying chill that seemed to nip at her soul and bring tears unbidden to her eyes.

Swallowing hard against the icy rebuff, she assumed a bright smile and nodding, replied cheerfully, "Of course."

Sully shifted slightly and the three siblings were revealed to her sight, hesitantly framed in the shadow of the doorway.

Michaela's eyes widened in shock as she surveyed the figures before her and just as her mind sought to recall their identities she was engulfed by memories, her heart fettered by emotion.

_Matthew caring for his sibling's during the epidemic…struggling to help find food for the immigrants…kissing Ingrid in the barn ...headstrong and independent…a grown man and yet her son… _

_Colleen with two small plaits smiling broadly and telling her she wanted to be a doctor…the little hands _

_frozen from the cold and her anguished cries as she begged her to save them…the infatiguable nurse watching lovingly over her little brother as he lay blind…her friend…her daughter…_

_Brian standing before her, asking if he could call her Ma…his small body bathed in sweat as he struggled against the deadly influenza…the overwhelming fear as he lay blind, trapped in an unnatural sleep…his animated yet sensitive nature…the youngest of the three…her heart…_

"Matthew...Colleen...Brian..."she murmured as her eyes drifted from one to the other, the barely contained tears deadening her voice. For a moment there was silence before a small voice called out plaintively, "Ma."

Michaela's heart swelled at the sound and opening her arms welcomed the two blurs into her embrace. Glancing up with a clouded gaze, she watched as her eldest son extended an arm around the small family and leaning close to her ear, whispered tenderly, "Welcome back Dr Mike."

Sully leaned against the door, observing the happy reunion from a distance. The children had clustered around their mother and were quite dominating the conversation with details of their long travels, events that had occurred in town in her absence, even the latest miscreant who had been detained after school by way of punishment; information that many would call trite, even insignificant but to Michaela they were very gems of satisfaction for they lightened her heart and made her feel a part of the society that hither to she had been but a stranger. Her features relaxed, her mouth assumed a habitual smile and more than once a peal of her infectious laughter broke up the conversation, sending the younger siblings into equally uncontrollable fits of giggles.

When half an hour had passed in this fashion, Brian, suddenly recalling Sully's words addressed his mother thus.

"Ma, how come's you don't wanna marry Sully? Don't ya love him no more?"

Silence instantly doused out the joviality in the room and Michaela's smile faded, her brow creasing in consternation as she regarded the young boy before her.

"Brian," she began softly, taking his hands in her own, "it isn't like that at all."

"But I want Sully to be my Pa," he insisted.

"I know you do Brian," continued Michaela, nodding in understanding, "but listen to me for a minute. When the Reverend sets you an essay and you have all these ideas rushing about in your head, do you just ignore them and hope they'll still be there when you get home and need to write your paper?"

"Course not Ma," replied Brian impatiently, "I write 'em down so I don't forget nothin'."

"Exactly," said Michaela patiently, "you write them down so you have all the information you need before you start out. In the same way, I know that Sully is a good man, and that he's your friend but that's not enough for me to agree to marry him. Do you understand?"

Brian was quiet for a moment before he nodded his assent. Then, raising his eyes to his mother he asked innocently, "Ma, can I help you find more inf'mation?"

Reaching out and hugging her son tightly, she murmured softly, "There's nothing I'd like more."

"You three wait outside, I got somethin' I need to tell your Ma."

"Alright Sully," replied Colleen and giving her mother a final hug she followed her brothers good naturedly out of the room.

Michaela turned hopefully to Sully yet his eyes were focused on an object far beyond her shoulder, the nature of his soul well concealed within the icy chasms.

"The doctors say ya can go home tomorrow," he began in a listless tone.

"That's wonderful," remarked Michaela, her eyes remaining fixed on his features, desperately searching for some sign of humanity within the marble cast before her.

"The kids and I can come by sometime in the morning if you're ready then," continued Sully, resolutely avoiding the amber green eyes he could sense piercing through the narrow chinks in his armour of detachment.

"That's fine," stated Michaela, before boldly reaching out to touch the sculpted arm before her and forcing the austere gaze to meet her own.

"Sully, please….I'm sorry about before."

"There's no need to apologise Dr Mike, I understand" was the sole response she got.

"But Sully…..what happened to your hand?"

In a slight movement, Sully's palm had become visible to her sight and Michaela instantly noticed the four cuts that had penetrated his flesh.

"S'nothing," said Sully, attempting to hide his hand in his pocket.

"Let me see it," requested Michaela gently, "please."

In a moment of sheer weakness, unable to deny the softened, almost pleading tone, Sully reluctantly held out his hand. His eyes drifted close as the soothing fingers tenderly probed his palm, the feather light touch tracing similar patterns on his heart.

"I need to clean this Sully, to prevent it getting infected."

"S'no need for that," he replied stubbornly, hurriedly opening his eyes, yet the determined glare he received from the doctor curbed his pride and begrudgingly, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Michaela rummaged in her medicine bag and withdrawing a colourless jar, proceeded to dampen a cloth with its contents. Reaching for Sully's hand again she dabbed lightly at the raw wounds.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said quietly as she worked.

"You didn't" answered Sully passively, "just stings a little."

"That's not what I meant," rejoined Michaela sadly, "I was just so shocked, I didn't know what to do. It was wrong of me to walk away. I'm so sorry Sully."

Unwilling to remain indifferent to such a heart felt soliloquy, Sully raised his eyes to meet hers and Michaela noted a ray of hope flicker in their depths.

"May I have a look at the…my ring?" she asked, dropping her cloth.

Wordlessly, Sully produced it from his pocket, the band glinting amber in the fading sunlight, no hint of the darkness that had so recently besmirched it.

Slowly Michaela withdrew a thin, silver chain from around her neck and deftly slipping the ring onto it, fastened the clasp beneath the curtain of her hair. Sully watched for a moment as the diamond glistened against the light blouse, the colours scattering with every breath she took.

"I'm not saying yes," stammered Michaela yet when Sully glanced up at her, she saw only understanding marking his lineaments. Smiling slightly, he extended his injured hand towards her and as the wounds were bathed and bandaged, there was no need for words.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter 18:**_

"You look beautiful Mike"

Rebecca tucked the stray tendrils into the elegant coil and stepped back to survey the finished product with satisfaction. Michaela stared at the vision of seeming elegance reflected in the silver glass before her, the mere shadow of a woman, and was not convinced.

"He won't be able to take his eyes off you," assured Marjorie as she bent to fasten the pearl bracelet onto her young sister's hand.

"I can't think what you mean," replied Michaela pensively, rising from her seat, "William and I are just friends."

The glances of mutual consternation that passed between her older sisters were quite lost on the young doctor as she moved towards the bureau, and so absorbed did she then become in the tangles of her memory, that she did not even notice their silent retreat from the room.

Reaching out, her fingers contacted the velvety surface of the white rose and for several moments she stood, locked in a reverie as she traced the graceful contours of the blooming bud.

A sudden peal of laughter echoed along the deserted corridor and awakened her harshly to reality once again. Withdrawing her hand with a sigh she glanced down at the small sprig of entwined evergreen and lavender cowering in the wake of the expensive bouquet. The quiet sincerity with which that small gift had been bestowed suffused her heart and she could not control the smile that pulled at the corner of her mouth nor defy the blush that began to edge its way along her cheeks. At that moment, the somewhat withered petals and darkened stems held more beauty to her eyes than the rose could ever hope to comprehend. Without hesitating, she lifted the slender chain from the shade of the emerald leaves and fastening it securely around her neck hastened from of the room.

Sully pulled at the white collar and sighed in frustration. Fettered by the etiquette of high society and the formidable Elizabeth Quinn, he had been forced to disown his comfortable attire and instead don the crisp shirt, the long jacket and to his mind, superfluously ruffled cravat. In an attempt to distract himself from the incessant prickle of the starched fabric against his neck, Sully turned his gaze towards the door. The hallway was brimming with a chattering crowd, the vibrant colours of the ladies' dresses contrasting spectacularly against the sombre black of their respective partners. To his shrewd eyes however, the bejewelled and feathered beauties held little interest; for to him they were as insubstantial as dull wisps of smoke that faded into obscurity on closer inspection. As he mused over this seeming irony, a flash of blue caught his eye and directed his glance to the staircase.

Her dress was much simpler than society would usually dictate yet the flowing folds of material enveloped her form in a singularly elegant fashion, the pale hue subtly drawing attention to the lustrous curls cascading down her back. The force of her beauty drew the very breath from his lungs and for a moment he was still, the image of her youthful splendour burning into his mind, the lone flame amidst the smoke. Yet even as he stepped forward to greet her, an arm brushed past him, forcing him back into the narrow alcove. His eyes darkened as he watched the familiar form extend his hand and assist her down the final step.

She turned her head, fervently seeking the radiant beams that from the shadows had so seared her soul, yet the azure gaze was lost to view and sadly she allowed him to guide her through the teeming hallway.

Sully pressed himself further against the wall and folding his arms surveyed the scene before him with dismay. His arm was nestled around her waist, his hand clasping her slender one as they meandered between the dancing couples. Swallowing hard against the agonising sight, Sully turned away and smiled slightly in spite of himself. Matthew had finally humoured his sister with a dance whilst Brian, seated beside his Aunt Rebecca, was happily devouring yet another slice of pie. Their innocent smiles warmed his heart and provided some much needed solace.

"I have rarely seen Michaela look so radiant as she does today, or so happy."

A voice beside him drew his attention and Sully turned to meet Elizabeth's contented glance. Uncertain how to respond, he merely nodded and followed her gaze as it pursued her daughter across the room.

"Yet it's been a week and she hasn't remembered anything further," she remarked.

"She can't remember any more," replied Sully quietly, "'cause her heart ain't here."

"What do you mean by that?" questioned Elizabeth, her brow creasing in suspicion.

"It's back in Colorado," explained Sully softly, "even if she don't know it yet."

For a moment Elizabeth was silent, before she responded.

"I won't deny that I disapproved of Michaela's decision to travel West, in fact I did everything in my power to persuade her otherwise but perhaps she no longer belongs in Boston."

"No-one can make Michaela do anything she don't wanna" stated Sully in an undertone, his heart voicing the oft repeated phrase as the hum of conversation broke out across the room.

Elizabeth watched as the gentleman leaned towards Michaela, seemingly whispering a confidence in her ear, before her gaze shifted back to Sully's contorted features.

"That is where you are wrong Mr Sully," she said decidedly, "quite wrong."

Michaela turned and caught sight of his form pressed against the wall. Yet almost as though he sensed her gaze, he shrunk further into the shadows and was once again lost to view. In a sudden fit of boldness, she stepped away from him and made her way towards the lonely corner. The blue eyes immediately came into view, glowing sapphires in the haze of the oil lamp and for a moment her steps were arrested, her heart held steady by implacable bands. Her widened gaze curiously traversed the figure before her, the unfamiliar costume barely able to conceal the enigmatic personality that she had so grown to respect and admire.

"Sully?" she called out softly.

"Michaela?" he replied, stepping towards her.

"Will you….will you dance with me?" she requested, the colour rising in her cheeks as she spoke.

"I don't know Michaela, I'm not…." began Sully.

"You're good enough for me….please?" she pleaded.

Observing the rosy shade and the lineaments streaked with hesitation, Sully smiled and nodding his assent, extended his arm to lead her back into the crowd.

The sombre grey eyes watched as he led her into the centre of the room. The crimson blush had not faded off the paled skin, and as he followed her elegant form, Loneliness pierced his heart anew, its venom tingeing his blood and caking his soul in dejection. He had stirred her interest but not captured her heart. In truth it was not an object one could claim for one's own; bestowed willingly it would blossom like a summer rose yet confined where love did not reside, it would turn tail, wreaking a deadly destruction upon its master.

Humbled miserably by the acknowledgment of his defects, his failure, he sighed and made to leave the room, to leave her behind for ever.

"What on earth is William doing here?" hissed Colleen, tapping her older brother on the arm.

"I aint sure" replied Matthew, a frown marking his features, "maybe Grandma invited him. Least ways he don't look too happy." he added.

The siblings watched as the doctor cast a final, forlorn look at the dancing couple before departing wordlessly through the side door.

Noticing his sister's continued glance of concern, Matthew put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Don't worry Colleen, Dr Mike and Sully are meant to be together. William couldn't get between 'em then and he sure won't be able to now."

"I know Matthew," replied Colleen, her tone unexpectedly soft as she turned towards her brother, "he just looked so sad, like he'd forgotten how to smile. I don't think he will ever be the same again."

The ribbons of melody twisted around the couple, drawing them closer until they were swept away, their hearts beating in harmony as together they wandered the winding path, lost in a world of vibrant colour and unending light. Michaela relaxed in his arms, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply, revelling in the scent that had captivated her senses and intoxicated her mind. A slight sigh escaped her parted lips, her soul awash with contentment.

Sully smiled as the petite form fell more deeply into his embrace. Tightening his hold around her waist, he rested his head against hers, subtly inhaling the delicate fragrance that hung in her long locks, the heady scent of her perfume, and desperately resisting the urge to kiss the lips that lingered so close to his own...

A snigger behind him snapped at his mind and he forced open his eyes, the enchantment of the moment instantly dissipating. Glowers of disapproval rained down on him as he turned first one way then another, hemmed in in a sea of disgust. His blood began to boil as the guests muttered amongst themselves, their gesticulations in his direction leaving him in no doubt as to the general topic of conversation. All scruples were abandoned as the social butterflies conversed haughtily about the uncouth ruffian who dared to associate with the elite of Bostonian society.

The final strum of the violin awakened Michaela and opening her eyes she gazed up in surprise at her partner. The compassionate blue eyes had given way to ireful lagoons of blazing cobalt and a heavy flush masked the handsome features from view. Alarmed, Michaela drew back from his embrace and surveying him critically, she addressed him.

"Sully," she began cautiously, "Sully are you alright?"

The familiar tone penetrated the barriers of fury melded in his mind and Sully looked down at the delicate, upturned face. Concern had blanched her features and the radiance of moments ago had been replaced by apprehension. Biting back the torrent of wrath that threatened to spill forth from his lips, Sully took the slight hand in his own. Raising it to his lips, he bestowed a tender kiss to the pale knuckles before striding away towards the door, pulling off the offending cravat as he went.

For several minutes, he leaned heavily against the iron railing, chest heaving, and his breath a foggy mist against the inky night sky. All of the confines of society seemed suddenly to constrict in an inescapable noose around him and despite his continued efforts to gain acceptance, admittance was resolutely denied him. Closing his eyes despondently against Futility, he breathed in deeply, the familiar scents of the shady woodland, the burnt embers of the camp fire and the brushed furs instantly filling his mind.

"You miss it, don't you?"

The voice startled him and Sully turned in the darkness. Her footsteps on the grass had not betrayed her approach and as she stood, her skin shimmering silver in the moonlight, Sully wondered at her timely arrival.

"Colorado I mean," she continued, moving to stand beside him.

"Yeh," replied Sully, staring out across the silent grounds, "guess I do."

"I'm so sorry Sully," began Michaela, her voice cracking with emotion, "I have been so selfish, I was just thinking about what I wanted when all this time…."

"No Michaela," interrupted Sully, grasping her shoulder and turning her gaze towards him, "you're not selfish. I stayed cos I wanted to, cos I care about ya."

"I suppose I have been putting off going back to Colorado too," whispered Michaela, "everything is still so uncertain and it…it means starting all over again."

"Don't worry," assured Sully, "I'm gunna be right there with ya. We'll handle this together, I promise."

Blinking back the stray tears, she nodded in the darkness. The slight movement of her neck caught the slanting moon beam and as the ray scattered, Sully noticed the diamond lying against the lace of her bodice. His heart swelled with Hope that surged through his being, extinguishing the final flames of his anger in its wake.

"D'ya wanna go back in?" he asked gently, extending his arm to her.

Smiling nervously, Michaela accepted the gesture and grasped his hand loosely in her own. As Sully raised his free hand to re-adjust the neck tie, she shook her head.

"Leave it Sully," she said softly, "it doesn't matter to me."


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter 19:**_

"Come in!"

The light tap drew her attention from the heavy volume resting in her lap and she looked up, expectantly awaiting the entrance of the visitor. As the familiar face peered around the door her eyes brightened and she smiled broadly.

"Hope I aint disturbing ya," he called softly.

"Course not Sully," giggled Colleen, "I was jus' readin' one of Ma's old text books."

Sully smiled at the expression on the girl's face. Despite there being no blood relationship between them, Michaela's stubborn determination and wilful attitude towards medicine had already begun to rub off on her young protégée and coupled with her earnest dedication to her studies, left him in no doubt as to the skilled physician she would one day become.

"Reckon your Ma would be real proud of ya Colleen" said Sully, his response betraying an undertone of almost paternal pride.

"Thanks," replied Colleen, a slight blush rising in her cheeks.

"Have you seen your Ma this morning?" continued Sully, a slight frown creasing his brow.

"Sure," answered Colleen quickly, "she left early this morning. Said she had some people to see 'fore we go home tomorrow."

"She mention who?" asked Sully, attempting to keep his tone neutral.

Colleen shook her head slowly.

"Why Sully, somethin' botherin' ya?"

"No," replied Sully, his gaze turning to the overcast window, "I just…I mean it just…it looks like it might rain."

Colleen smiled knowingly at the concern clearly depicted on his face. Rising from her seat, she approached him and placing her hand tenderly on his arm, whispered close to his ear.

"It rains plenty in Colorado too and it never hurt Ma none. She'll be just fine, don't worry."

Sully turned to meet her astute glance, a sheepish grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Can't help it," he said, "never could."

Noting the gathering clouds, Michaela accelerated her pace, hurrying along the narrow streets winding their way back towards Beacon Hill. The first specks of rain began to pelt down on her velvet jacket just as she rounded the corner, the silver door handle even at a distance clearly gleaming with a thin sheet of moisture. Bending her body against the rising wind, she picked up her skirts and darting between the queue of carriages, ran nimbly up the stone stairs, finally pausing under the sheltered porch to catch her breath. Shivering slightly, she extended her hand to the elaborate knocker, desperate to escape the damp, the darkness.

Sully paused on the staircase as the door opened and Michaela entered the brightly lit hallway. The fashionable hat was instantly discarded and the long auburn locks, finally released from their constraint, tumbled happily down her shoulders. As the pale fingers ran deftly down the row of small buttons, the sparkling eyes suddenly rose and on meeting his gaze, the hand paused, a smile beginning to form across the moistened face.

"Hey," he called softly, coming down the final few steps to meet her, "you alright?"

"Yes thank you," replied Michaela, a rosy tinge rising in her cheeks, "I just about missed the rain."

Sully nodded yet noting her dewy complexion and the involuntary shudder that ran through her small frame, he gestured towards the parlour.

"I got a fire going, should be warm," he said and in response to her rueful expression, linked her arm gently with his, guiding her easily into the cosy apartment.

"So where d'ya go anyway?"

Convinced that the full heat of the blaze was falling on her slight form, Sully turned on his low stool to gaze at her, curiosity marking his lineaments.

For a minute Michaela was quiet, her eyes fixed on the yellow flames licking the blackened logs, the smoke rising in small curls, twisting delicately before vanishing into the darkness.

"I went to see a friend," she offered finally, turning her glance to meet his confused one, the azure depths compelling her to continue, "to…to see William."

The name reverberated in his ears and to Michaela's troubled gaze, his features seemed to assume an oddly closed nature. Deep within him, Sully felt the dormant snake awaken and tighten its coils around his heart, the forked tongue flickering between pointed fangs. The acrid venom instantly began to poison his blood. Jealousy.

"What?" he asked in a voice of deadly calm.

"He's a friend," maintained Michaela, "and since we're leaving tomorrow, I just…"

"He's not a friend!" replied Sully, his voice rising uncontrollably as he leapt from his position, "he's, he's…"

"He's what Sully?" interjected Michaela, her face flushing with fury as she rose to stand before him, "William is a good man and he respects me, as a physician and a woman. Or will you begrudge me such a friendship simply because of your pride!"

"How can you be so blind!" retorted Sully in disbelief.

"How dare you!" fired back Michaela, "I have never given William any reason to believe that I consider him anything other than a friend, which is more than I can say for you and Catherine!"

A shocked silence filled the room. The colour drained from Michaela's face as the implications of her words resounded in her heart and her eyes widened as she met Sully's gaze. In an instant, the ire had dissipated and in its stead rose torment, anguish so intense that the mere reflection of it lacerated her heart. The strength of his form waned, crumpled, and before she could respond, the back had turned on her and was retreating towards the hall.

"Sully!" she called out desperately, "Sully I'm…."

The steps however did not halt and as the thud of the front door filled the empty corridor, Michaela suddenly rushed forward, the rain of tears melting into the small puddles on the floor, her final words a whispered prayer muffled by grief.

"I'm sorry."

Sully walked swiftly down the side walk, his eyes blind against the pelting rain, his body immune to the frequent jostles of the crowd bustling past him. Sounds around him muffled into a deafening silence that filled his mind, broken only by the sad repetition of those words, that name. His heart struggled to control the torrent of emotion raging through his body as the scars of his soul seared open, the pain pouring forth to engulf his being, forcing the tears from his eyes. For so long he had convinced himself that the wounds in his heart had healed, she had soothed them. Yet with one word the seal had broken and as he entered the garden where they had first met, the solitude and guilt surrounded him, an inescapable prison for his mind. William…..Catherine….Michaela…..

"Gran'ma? Can I come in?"

Elizabeth looked up and smiled at the fair head peeking around the mahogany door. Pushing the blanket aside, she tapped the seat beside her, inviting attest him to ease her loneliness.

"Whatcha doin'" asked Brian eagerly as he seated himself beside the formidable woman, his youthful hand against hers poignantly testifying to the endless nature of Time.

"Thinking I suppose, although I would hardly declare some of my thoughts as sensible" replied Elizabeth, indulging her grandson with an affectionate squeeze.

"Hey," exclaimed Brian pointing at the book before him, "that's Ma. She's got that same picture at the clinic."

"Yes," mused the wizened lady, "Joseph, that is, your grandfather, gave me this picture as a last attempt to make me accept Michaela's decision to be a doctor. I don't think Michaela even knows I have it."

She paused momentarily before continuing, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"It's been a long time but I believe I can finally say that I am as proud of her now as he was. I only wish I had seen then"

"Betcha gunna miss Ma when we go home tomorrow," stated Brian insightfully.

Smiling slightly at the upturned face at her elbow, she replied "Yes I will Brian, but a friend helped me see that Michaela doesn't belong here. Her heart is in Colorado."

"Yep," added Brian, nodding in agreement, the depth of the words lost to his innocent comprehension, "and all her friends and her clinic too."

"Quite right," assented the amused Elizabeth. With a final glance at the faded picture, she closed the album and led her chattering grandson out of the room.

During the seemingly endless, lonely nights that would follow, when an impenetrable darkness sought to shroud the soul, the leathery cover would often be drawn back and each time the early rays of sunshine would fall on that picture, burning its image forever into heart and mind alike.

Michaela paused at the gate, her heart catching in her throat as she observed the broken figure on the bench, the arched back and bowed head attesting to his misery. Shivering with cold and anxiety, she stepped towards him, each step a struggle for forgiveness, for acceptance, for life.

At the sound of the approaching step, Sully looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of the intruder. Swallowing hard against the rising shame, he rose to meet her.

Words drifted away on the wind as the two figures stood frozen before each other, hearts heaving with incommunicable emotion.

"Sully…."

Her anguished tone broke the silence and released the hitherto restrained tears that proceeded to cascade down her already reddened cheeks. The sight of the glistening droplets against the flushed face softened his heart yet even as his arms reached out to brush away the moisture, his mind pulled them back.

"Sully I am so sorry," whispered Michaela in a desolate tone, "I should…I should never have said what I did. It was unfair of me to use the past against you. Please…please forgive me."

"Nothin' to forgive," replied Sully in a neutral tone, "you were just saying what ya felt."

"No Sully," began Michaela desperately, "I don't even know why I said it. I was….I was just hurt and upset."

"You were hurtin' cos of me," said Sully softly, his voice breaking slightly, "I hurt you when Catherine was around and I…."

"I'm sorry Michaela," he continued after a pause, moving to take her hands in his, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I shouldn'v said what I said neither. It's…it' just…."

As his voice trailed off, her brow creased with curiosity.

"It's what Sully?" she probed.

Sully sighed and lowering his head, broke away from the enquiring glance.

"It's just that….you're so alike…..and he can give you so much," he said, his voice tinged with resignation, "so much more than I can."

For a moment, Michaela was silent. Her heart ached as she noted the fear of his soul, the vulnerability that lay exposed to her scrutiny. Squeezing his hand tenderly, she guided his gaze back to meet her own.

"You were right Sully," she began, "when you said I was blind."

"Michaela I…"

"No Sully," interjected Michaela, "don't apologise. I am blind. I am surrounded by a darkness that I can't see, or touch, or hear. Sometimes it surrounds me so completely that I am so afraid…. afraid that I won't ever escape it. But you," she said, staring straight into the hazy depths before her, "Sully you saved me. You always have. No matter how lost I get, no matter how far I push you away, you're always there, a light in the darkness."

"William and I _are_ alike," she continued after a pause, "much like you and Catherine were, and I value his friendship but I don't love him Sully, I never will."

Warmth trickled through the mould of pain surrounding his heart and filtering through his being, burnished his soul with a new light that burst brightly through the sapphire windows gleaming dark against his skin. Reaching up to the pained face before him, he gently cupped the chin and with his thumbs, brushed away the traces of her tears.

"I never loved Catherine either," he whispered, purest sincerity reflected in his tone.

"I…I…know…" replied Michaela, her voice trembling as the shivers once again took hold of her dampened form.

"Best get you back home," said Sully, noting the locks clinging to the pale cheeks. "Though I doubt even I can save ya from what your Ma's gunna say when she sees ya" he joked.

The force of her quaking rendering her speechless, Michaela simply smiled and nodded in appreciation.

As a lone ray of sunshine peeked warily through the malignant clouds, its beam straining to illuminate the darkened pathway ahead, the two figures set off from their secluded haven and together, began the long journey home.

_She leaned back heavily against the upholstered cushion, her pulse racing as the familiar sights flittered across the window. It was foolish to hope he would be there, reasoned her mind, not after her behaviour towards him, not after the way they had parted. Unbidden, tears sprung to her eyes yet she forced them back, willing them not to fall until she was once more closeted away in her sanctuary, where the only witness to her wretchedness would be the dampened pillow._

_The coach pulled to a halt and taking a deep breath, she straightened out the few creases in the elegant skirt, preparing herself to face the inevitable consequence of her choice. Yet even the steely shield encasing her heart could not prevent the thrill of pain that ran through her as she noted the absence of his familiar features, the distinct cobalt eyes in a sea of brown and grey. Turning away from the crowd, she clung to the door of the coach, desperate to conceal the disappointment she felt sure was etched across her features. As the sounds of the cheerful reunion of Matthew and his fiancée reached her ears, she swallowed hard and wordlessly pointed up at the two bags slung across the roof. The mundane would once again become her refuge. _

_A small hand pressed into her back, insistently directing her attention back to the crowd. Turning slightly and squinting against the sunshine, her heart skipped a beat as she saw the figure break free of the shadows…._

"Michaela…"

He was calling her name so tenderly and she felt his hand against her arm, rubbing it gently.

"Michaela…."

Opening her eyes, she found his face just inches above her own. She had fallen asleep against his shoulder. The colour instantly rising in her cheeks, she moved away from him and sitting up straighter in her seat, scrubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes. Sensing her discomfort, Sully cleared his throat and gazing out of the window, remarked quietly.

"We're almost there."


	20. Chapter 20

**_Chapter 20:_**

The clatter of wheels drew the attention of the inhabitants away from the monotony of daily life and they glanced up with interest as the horses approached the centre of town. Children broke away from their mothers and tore after the stagecoach, eager to catch a glimpse of the strangers closeted away within it. At the telegraph office, the operator adjusted the ribbons of his neck tie and straightened his waistcoat before stepping out importantly to collect the long awaited sack of letters.

Sniggering at the young gentleman's antics, the bar keeper took a deep puff on his cigar and blowing out a final ring of smoke, stubbed the still glowing end out with his booted toe. Thrusting his thumbs into his low slung belt, he abandoned his post beneath the shelter of the saloon and sauntered across the street to join the rapidly growing crowd around the coach. Catching the eye of the barber exiting his shop, he smiled sardonically and gestured towards the riotous throng. The former quickly fell into step with his comrade and assuming an equally disapproving air, they fought their way together through the masses.

The children were already talking animatedly amongst themselves, their conversation punctured by an occasional peal of laughter as the familiar sights came into view. Even before the stage had drawn to a halt, they were scrambling over each other, fighting desperately to escape the stuffy confines of the coach and rejoice in the late afternoon sunshine that was bathing their home town in hazy, golden rays.

Michaela sat motionless, the elated chatter of her family rushing over her numbed form in deafening waves. As the shafts of sunlight burst through the opened doorway, she swallowed hard, forcibly suppressing the anxiety welling in her throat. Standing up slightly, she could feel the warmth of the small bodies pressing at her sides, jostling, urging her forwards until she stood pale and unsteady on the dry, cracked earth.

The faces seemed to swim before her, individuals merging into a sea of strangers as her eyes darted between them, her mind reeling as it tried vainly to recall their identities. Panic began to encircle her heart and she felt her body tremble as the muffled sounds of their voices reached her ears, echoing dimly down the empty corridor of her memory. To her bewildered mind, the words never formed, the smiles faded away, and as the moments became minutes, her very sanity seemed to linger on the edge of a precipice. She was going to fall.

In that final instant, the hand was extended and feeling its warmth beside her she grasped it fervently, as if the strength of it alone could support her. And as it always had, the grip subtly tightened, suffusing her soul with the certainty her own mind could not produce, the security she so desperately desired. Lifting her eyes once again to the crowd before her, the misty blend of hues seemed gradually to clear, settling into delicate shades, intricate shapes and twisted forms. The hazel eyes seemed welcome to her mind, the blue a kin to her heart, the green a replica of her own; faces and smiles, the familiarity stirred her soul and as Michaela absorbed the sight before her, the tears began to form.

"Dr Mike…."

"Michaela…."

Glancing up, she met the gaze of the two women before her, so different and yet so alike. The shadows of past misery lingered still in their eyes as they stood now, proud, beside one another, the dark skin throwing the fair into sharp relief, living testaments to the cruelty of humanity; the bravest women she knew.

"Dorothy….Grace….."

The names fell from her lips almost without her knowledge yet Instinct provided the confidence of her address. Even as the smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, the hand relinquished its hold and arms encircled her, the tender embraces of friendship welcoming her home.

Sully stepped back and crossing his arms, leaned back against the door of the stage. Her laughter intermingled with the odd sob warmed his heart and he smiled, content to revel in the sight before him. Uncertainty had faded and for the first time since their departure, the light had risen in her eyes once again, the luminescence beaming over the crowd, encompassing the darkness in its vibrance.

"Well now," began Grace, releasing Michaela and wiping her tears on her apron, "ya must be hungry. Why don't ya'll come on over to my café and have some supper. I even got pie for afters."

"What kind Miss Grace?" asked Brian excitedly, having arrived just in time to hear the offer of dessert.

"Apple," answered Grace smilingly.

"My favourite!" exclaimed the young boy. Chuckling at the young boy's vivacity, the older lady slipped an arm around his shoulders.

"I know," she replied and gesturing to his siblings, proceeded to lead the ravenous trio towards her establishment.

"It's good to have you back Michaela," remarked Dorothy quietly, "you sure had us all worried."

"Thank you Dorothy," replied Michaela softly, "it's good to be back."

"So how many doctors ya get all riled up back in Boston huh Michaela?" interrupted Hank, a sarcastic smile marking his features, "we all know what you're like when ya get on your soap box."

An appreciative snigger ran through the somewhat diminished crowd around the coach and Michaela felt her colour rise. However, catching the gleam in the bar keeper's eyes she smiled and nodded in admission of the inescapable truth.

"It's good to see you too Hank."

"Some folks came by while ya was gone, needed some stitches," said Jake from beside his colleague, "I did 'em but said they best come see you too when ya got back."

Her heart swelled at the trust she saw reflected in the faces before her, the deep conviction in her skill and the acceptance she had so arduously sought for all those years in Boston. Her soft reply, when she could master her own voice, seemed wholly inadequate to describe the singular contentment that filled her soul at that moment.

"Thank you Jake, I appreciate it."

"Well, time's awastin' and I got customers waitin'"

Hank's voice abruptly scattered the emotional mood and tipping his hat to Michaela, he sauntered back towards the saloon. Conversation broke out amongst the crowd and many having offered their best wishes to the young doctor, headed off in the direction of Grace's, no doubt to discuss the day's events over a cup of coffee and piece of pie.

Noting her friend's somewhat overwhelmed expression, Dorothy touched her arm.

"You look tired Michaela. Why don't you go home and we can catch up properly over lunch tomorrow?"

Nodding appreciatively, Michaela smiled ruefully.

"I'd like that" she replied.

Returning the slight smile with one of her own, Dorothy turned and followed Loren back towards the general store.

"Maybe we should head home" began Sully as the final remnants of the crowd dissipated.

"Yes…." replied Michaela quietly, "we should."

Sully followed her gaze as it came to rest on the sign hanging beneath the wooden balcony.

_Medical Clinic_

_Dr Michaela Quinn_

A knowing smile pulling at his lips, he grasped her arm, directing her glance to meet his own.

"Wanna go in?" he asked; the answer already reflected in the mismatched windows before him. Reaching inside his pocket, Sully pulled out the small, bronze key and placed it into the pale, trembling hand. The grip instantly tightened over it, hiding it from view and swallowing hard, she broke free of his hold and stepped onto the dusty porch. Her hands shook as the key slipped easily into the lock and for a moment she was still, both dreading and desiring what she would find inside. Sensing his watchful gaze on her back, she took a deep breath and turned the key. The door gave way instantly beneath the pressure and creaked open, the rush of light highlighting the interior of the room.

"It's ok," he murmured against her ear, "go on."

Her body felt leaden as she slowly moved forwards, each step a very fight against the emptiness, towards completion. As she approached the desk, her eyes ran over the neat stack of medical journals, the delicate set of scales, and came to rest on the picture perched in the corner. Lifting it up, she ran her hand lovingly over the silver frame, the well remembered faces seeming to speak across the distance, a testimony to her destiny. Holding the picture against her heart, she turned and saw him framed in the doorway, waiting.

"I can see them Sully," she whispered, "I can see their faces."

He watched the light disappear from her eyes as the memories flooded back, the constant struggle against an inevitable darkness, the battles she had won and those she had lost. Carefully removing the picture from her grasp, he replaced it on the desk and wrapped his arms tenderly around her. In the comfort of his embrace, the tears were finally released and Sully felt his soul ache along with hers as the droplets soaked through his shirt, glistening pearls falling noiselessly against his heart.

The siblings chattered noisily, their giggles becoming more exuberant as the wagon drew closer to home. When Sully finally reined the horse outside the wooden homestead, they leapt from their seats and rushed into the house, calling happily to each other as they delighted in the joy of their homecoming. Turning to the silent form beside him, he gently rubbed her shoulder.

"Michaela, we're here."

She started at the contact and lifting her head, blinked away her reverie as she surveyed the sight before her. The humble abode was the antonym of everything she had ever known and yet her heart warmed towards it in a way it never had in Boston. Warmth and light seemed to radiate from every corner, tendrils of affection that enveloped her with an assurance of love, consolation, of sanctuary. Her home.

Releasing a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, Michaela turned to meet his upturned face and smiled. Extending her arms, she rested them lightly on his shoulders and allowed him to lift her up.

The black and white rules of propriety so strictly enforced in Boston seemed suddenly to fade into unfathomable shades of grey against the rugged terrain and as her feet touched the ground, the final fetters around her heart were released. Her soul soared unhindered; she was finally free.

"I best be goin'"

His voice from behind her drew her attention instantly and she faced him, the smile faltering. She had grown so accustomed to his presence that she had not considered the implications their return to Colorado would have on him, on them. Her heart still clung desperately to the refuge he provided and a deep blush rose to her cheeks as her mind vied with Emotion, chiding her dependence and scorning her weakness.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Sully slowly approached her. Taking her hand in his own, he placed a soft kiss to the knuckles before raising his gaze to meet her own.

"I'll see ya tomorrow," he said, "first thing."

Releasing her, he turned away, his heart racing. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to walk away, to tread the dusty path that led away from all that he yearned for, all that he loved.

She watched his retreating form round the corner and disappear around the bend. He never looked back.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Warning: This chapter contains scenes that some readers may find disturbing. They are highlighted so you know._**

_**Chapter 21:**_

The icy chill of temperate April which had clung so fiercely to the snow capped mountains finally dissipated, giving way resignedly to balmy May that promptly engulfed the small town in a band of unending sunshine. The days slipped by unnoticed as Michaela slowly became reacquainted with the life her mind had so entirely forsaken. Seeking solace in her skill as a physician and the continued support of her family and friends, the intolerable fear that had been governor of her faculties since her arrival in Colorado, gradually released its hold leaving in its wake the confidence, the independence and the fiery beauty that had so long been suppressed.

A warm evening not too long after their return home, found the family seated around the scrubbed, wooden table, their laughter intermingled with the clatter of forks and knives as they partook of their evening repast. If the fire in the hearth seemed to burn brighter and the siblings seemed more exuberant than usual, it was more than likely due to the presence of the guest seated in their midst. After much pleading from Brian and a solemn oath from Colleen that she would keep her Ma from the kitchen at any cost, Sully had agreed to join them for dinner.

True to his word, Sully had appeared every morning, talked and laughed with the children on their way to school and made arrangements to meet them for lunch at the café. However, he had hitherto rejected every invitation to accompany the family home for supper. Though he desired nothing more than to return to the familiarity of the past, his mind could not bear to recall those evenings he had passed at the homestead, the precious hours he had spent with her, nestled against each other in contented silence, watching the surroundings still as the curtain of night drew slowly over the tall trees. Yet even as he convinced himself that he need not stay long, that he _could_ continue the charade of friendship no matter his own feelings on the matter, the unhappy truth would once again pull heavily on his heart, an inescapable weight. She was remembering everything, everything except him.

"….and Matthew had to chase it a full three times around the barn before he caught it and got it back in the coop."

Choking out this final line, Brian collapsed against his sister, both of them doubling up helplessly with laughter while Matthew's face flushed with embarrassment. Beside her, Michaela heard Sully chuckle and she bit her lip hard against the laughter that threatened at the thought of her eldest son chasing a sly chicken. Her sympathy for his humiliation however hastily sobered her thoughts and she sought to control his younger siblings.

"Alright you two," she said not unkindly, "that's enough."

"Sorry Matthew," apologised Colleen between subsiding giggles whilst Brian busied himself with his peas, not trusting himself to meet his brother's gaze.

Smiling at their barely contained amusement, Michaela attempted to divert the conversation.

"Sully," she asked, turning slightly to her left, "I noticed some packets of dried herbs amongst my medicines and I would very much like to discuss their properties with Cloud Dancing. Is there any chance you could take me out to see him tomorrow?"

The atmosphere altered as instantly as if a candle had been snuffed out in the darkness. An almost palpable tension permeated the room, rapidly smothering all trace of humour. The clang of a fork unwittingly released reverberated against the table, momentarily breaking the stunned silence.

Glancing around curiously at the anxious faces, Michaela directed her attention back to Sully, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Is something wrong?" she asked softly, "I just remember he taught me about his medicine and I only wanted…." Her voice trailed off in uncertainty.

Casting a warning glance at the children, Sully finally raised his eyes to meet the hesitant ones before him.

"It's fine," he replied quietly.

Dropping his napkin to the table, he stood up and pulled on his coat.

"I best be goin'," he said neutrally, "Thanks for dinner. I'll see y'all tomorrow."

"But Sully," began Michaela, rising from her seat even as the door closed softly behind him.

"We're here."

She reined her sweating horse behind his and leapt eagerly from the saddle. Her brow furrowed however, as she observed his form motionless beside his horse, his knuckles white as the grip on the bridle tightened. Noiselessly, she approached him and resting a hand on his shoulder, called out.

"Sully?"

As the cobalt eyes turned to meet her own, the sorrow he had futilely attempted to disguise scorched her heart and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"What is it?" she asked almost fearfully, yet inexplicably curious as to what agony could so shake the spirit of the stoical figure before her. Wordlessly, Sully moved aside, revealing the sight to her eyes.

Charred timbers stood erect against the clouded horizon, scattered and crippled remnants of the structures that had once filled the deserted land before her, the last remaining testament to the thriving village which had flourished for so long within the shaded confines of nature. Closing her eyes, she could almost smell the pungent aroma that assaulted her senses as she approached the glade, the heady scent of wood smoke and leather rising in spirals from the open fires that glowed like amber lanterns amidst the approaching twilight. Two children darted past her, the slap of simple sandals against cracked earth filling her ears, spotted feathers flattened against the wind as the long locks streamed out behind them, a raven ribbon blurring her vision.

"They're all gone Michaela," his voice deadened with defeat, raw with unchecked grief, "they fought for so long, too long, but in the end it just wasn' enough."

"Washita…"

The lone word fell from her lips as her knees collapsed against the ground and the pale hands rose to hide her face from the memories that flooded her mind.

_The funeral pyres arranged like rows of dominoes rising high beside the watchful trees as the flames began to engulf the lower branches. The acrid smell of the burning corpses filled her nostrils as the cries of those few left behind shot through her ears, tears coursing easily down her cheeks….The silver blade slit deftly through the tanned skin and a sliver of crimson erupted, dripping silently onto the earth, marring it forever with the blood of the innocents, the outcasts….the small head lay cradled against his hand, a single wail of agony trampling over the mass of bodies strewn helplessly across the grassy banks as the final light faded and the dark eyes slid wearily shut. The hope, the beauty, all lost as the lap of the water against the scarlet stained pebbles siphoned away the souls of the martyrs to eternity. _

"Sully!" she called out in torment and misery, the tears choking her shallow breaths, "Oh God, Sully."

The arms immediately surrounded her and she collapsed against his chest, burying herself in the comfort of his embrace, heart wrenching sobs echoing around the desolate grounds.

"Shhhh," he murmured against her ear, gently stroking her back even as his own tears fell as light rain upon her head, "it's ok Michaela, it's ok."

The whispered words of reassurance however descended on deaf ears as the anguish, the fury, the guilt overwhelmed her heart and for several minutes the uncontrollable cries against the barbaric soldiers of humanity continued to rip through the trees that extended their branches, humbly shading the grieving couple.

Michaela sat at the head of the table, her fork pushing the food listlessly around the plate. Noting the worried glances of the children, she had initially forced down a few bites before her throat seemed to close up and her mind had wandered back to the events of the afternoon.

Sully was also observing her actions and with increasing concern. The ride home had been quiet and comprehending the immense nature of what Michaela had just experienced, he had refrained from trying to engage her in conversation. He had hoped that the arrival of the family would be sufficient cause to draw her mind back to the present yet it soon became apparent that the shadows lingered still in her heart. She had remained withdrawn, unwilling to join in the siblings' cheerful chatter and rejecting any attempt to discuss what was concerning her. With a pang, Sully recognized the similar fashion in which she had cocooned herself after Washita in an effort to blot out the horrific images from her mind. He only hoped that this time, he could save her before she surrendered entirely to the darkness.

"Ma?"

Colleen called, trying vainly to attract her mother's attention, yet Michaela only dropped her napkin in response to the sudden sound. Glancing unseeingly around the table, she pushed back her chair and walked slowly towards the fire place, silently lowering herself into the rocking chair.

"It's alright Colleen," began Sully, "you and Brian go on to bed and I'll finish up here."

"But I'm scared Sully," said Brian gazing at his mother's still form, "she ain't been like this since after Washita."

"I know Brian," replied Sully wrapping his arm around the young boy, "your Ma's having a tough time dealin' with everything she remembered today. She's gunna be upset for a while."

"Like I was when No Harm died?" asked Brian sadly.

"Yeh," nodded Sully, "just like that."

"So what d'we do?"

"Just let her know we're here for her," replied Sully, meeting the young girl's tear filled eyes, "that we love her."

Squeezing Brian's shoulder, he ushered him towards his sister.

"Go on," he said softly, "it's gunna be ok."

"Night Sully," whispered Colleen, taking her brother's hand.

"Night kids," he murmured.

"Sully…."

Matthew had been leaning against the wall, a silent spectator to the events unfolding around him.

"I'm worried about Dr Mike too," he began, "I don't wanna leave her alone tonight."

"Don't worry Matthew," replied Sully quickly, "I'll stay, just for a while an' make sure she's alright."

Nodding his appreciation, Matthew picked up his hat. "I'll be in the barn if ya need me," he said, before retreating for the night through the side door.

"Michaela…"

Resting a hand tenderly on her knee, he looked up at the expressionless face before him.

"Michaela," he repeated softly, "it's getting' late. Maybe ya ought'a try and get some sleep."

Finally shifting her gaze from the fire, she shrugged off his hand and rose mechanically from her seat.

"Yes perhaps I should," she stated dully, "I have to be up early tomorrow and I have appointments all day."

"It's not your fault Michaela," said Sully quietly, not moving from his position by the hearth.

"I don't know what you mean Sully," she replied without meeting his gaze, and pulling back the covers on the bed with undue alacrity.

"There are some things that are outta our hands," he continued, undeterred by her brusque response, "It ain't your fault they died."

His last words halted her actions and for several moments she was still, contemplating how she could possible verbalise the emotions rampaging through her heart, how she could possibly make him understand. Turning slightly towards him, she took a deep breath.

"It _is_ my fault," she said, her voice low with barely suppressed emotion, "I didn't try hard enough to stop the Army, perhaps if I had done something differently I might have been able to stop this, to save them."

"You did save them Michaela," answered Sully, moving to stand beside her, "you cared for 'em and helped 'em so many times,"

"But not _this_ time," replied Michaela mournfully, "I didn't….I couldn't…"

"Listen to me," interjected Sully, grasping her shoulders, "you did everything you could to help Cloud Dancing and his people. No-one could ask any more of ya."

"I just….."

Her voice dropped to a whisper as her head bent away from his astutue gaze, "I miss them….so much. There's a hole in my heart and I don't think it will ever be filled again."

"I know," said Sully softly, enfolding her in his arms, "I miss 'em too."

Resting her head against his shoulder, she clutched at the front of his shirt, clinging to the reassurance his presence provided.

"Stay with me tonight," she pleaded.

"Michaela…." began Sully, loosening her grip and pushing her gently away.

"Just till I fall asleep, please," she begged, tears welling in her eyes, "I don't want to be alone."

The still burning coals glowed like rubies in the darkness of the homestead, casting a low beam over the figure propped up against the side of the bed. The clock had long struck midnight yet he lingered, his eyes flickering continuously over the form slumbering beside him. Rising up slightly, he pulled the blanket closer over the pale, bare shoulders, shielding them from the night air before once more resuming his position, statue like on the dusty floor. Fatigue pulled heavily at his mind and he yawned, trying desperately to fight his stupor. The soporific effect of the solitude and warmth however was too great and within minutes, he had succumbed to sleep.

_He reached for her skirt and in an instant she knew what he wanted, what he was going to do. Crying out in fear, the ropes biting deeper into her already raw wrists, she pushed him back, desperately trying to shield herself from his constant attack. The moonlight fell on his face, carving out the features so contorted by his hatred of her, of her people…_

_Exhaustion had rendered her feeble and she stumbled over the small obstacles in her path, grimacing as the sharpened stones dug into her bare, bloodied feet. Her moans were muffled in her arid throat, the thirst now almost unbearable and as she turned her head up towards the glaring sunshine, she begged for an end to the torment, for him to find her, or if not, for release…_

_Her bare feet slipped against the stones, the tears stinging as they trickled down the lacerations scarring her cheek. A mass of bruises coloured her pale face and as her reddened eyes met his, she appealed wordlessly one last time. Yet the triumphant glitter in his eyes doused out the final embers of hope and before she could respond, he pushed roughly past her shoulder. With a cry of surprise, she lost her balance and toppled backwards. She was falling, falling into the chasm and the darkness engulfed her….._

"Sully!" she cried, struggling against the sheets, her eyes still blinded by the illusions of her memory, "Sully, please, help me!"

Instantly he was by her side, brushing the hair away from her damp brow and pulling her trembling form up against his shoulder. The slender arms wrapped convulsively around his shoulders as the words began to flow.

"They…they took me away from you," she stammered, her eyes wide with fear, "alone…I was so tired…afraid you wouldn't find me….One Eye…he p..pushed me…over…"

Struggling to comprehend the substance of what she was saying, Sully simply ran his hands soothingly down her back.

"It's alright Michaela," he gently reassured her, "it was just a dream."

"I was falling Sully….I…I fell and there was no-one to help me," she murmured, the tears beginning to trace their way down the contour of her cheeks, "I called out but I was alone….alone in the dark…"

"I'm right here Michaela," he whispered against her ear, smoothing her hair as she shuddered against his chest, "I'm right here with you and I promise you, I won't let you fall."


	22. Chapter 22

_**Chapter 22:**_

The reddened disk sunk further down, kissing the horizon in a shower of scattered crimson, its final rays illuminating the seemingly deserted structure. Weak beams filtered cautiously through the latticed windows, fighting dimly against the darkness that threatened at the dusty corners of the room.

The shadows gradually began to lengthen, engulfing his form in their chilly embrace and yet he sat motionless, gaze fixed unwaveringly on the artifact before him, wholly oblivious to night's imminent arrival. His eyes continued to traverse the intricate curves, silently reveling in every groove, every notch as the familiarity of the pattern once again took shape beneath his calloused hands. Hours had slipped past as he wandered the solitary, rugged path through his mind, the memories flooding his consciousness like a timeless melody trapped in the caged recesses of his heart. The sound of her laughter echoed in his ears and inhaling deeply he could almost smell her perfume as he cradled her head against his arm, cushioning her fall. Her chest rose rapidly against his and he smiled knowingly as the delicate blush traced its way down her pale cheeks…

Closing his eyes against the bitter reality reflected before him, he leaned his head back against the wall, stoically ignoring the ache that spread from his heart, penetrating his entire frame until each part of him groaned in unison under the weight of his suppressed emotion. Every nuance of his surroundings seemingly declared his love, embodied his hope and clamoured passionately against the injustice, the anguish. He was soothed and tortured by turn yet he could not draw himself away; clinging fervently to the pain, he secured the reassurance he so desperately sought: that he was still a man, that he was still alive.

"_Father?"_

"_Mmmm?"_

_He raised his eyes from the heavy text book resting on the desk before him and removing his spectacles, met the gaze of his five year old daughter._

"_Why did R'becca have to go away?"_

"_Come now," he said kindly, placing his finger beneath her trembling chin, "you know why."_

"_But why couldn't she still live here, with us? Why'd she have to leave?" protested the young girl, tears beginning to form in her mismatched eyes. _

"_Because she's a woman now, and she and Charles are going to start a whole new life, together" he explained patiently. Noting her dejected expression, he pulled gently on the starched collar of her nightgown and attempted to lighten the conversation. _

"_One day Mike, I'll turn around and you'll have grown up and be wanting to leave me too."_

"_I'm never going to get married," was the young girl's unexpected reply, her features suddenly contorting with disgust, "I'm going to be a doctor, like you."_

_He could not help but chuckle at the staunch determination reflected in the youthful face._

"_I'm sure you will," he said, "and medicine will become your life, much as it did mine. But perhaps some day, you'll realize that there are still pieces of your heart missing, fragments that complete your soul and satiate the chinks between them with singular contentment. Don't be afraid to find that Mike."_

"_I'm never going to leave you Father," was the young girl's sole rejoinder as she wrapped her small arms fiercely around his neck, "never."_

"_Well I am glad to hear it," he replied jovially, smiling at her innocence and returning the embrace with equal fervour. Lifting her swiftly off the desk he grasped her hand and leaning down, whispered close to her ear. "Now let's get you back to bed before your mother realizes you've gone."_

The shout of a dissatisfied customer across the street startled her from her reverie and gradually, the hazy images before her slid back into clarity. With a sigh she closed the book, her gaze lovingly traversing the cover, the aged leather now cracked beneath her palm. Her father's legacy lingered still between the well thumbed pages, the fading text, and as they had that night, her fingers began to retrace the familiar gilded pattern, wandering across the contours until they encountered the two initials embossed in the corner. The hue had almost dissipated yet the groove remained and as the name took form beneath her touch, she recalled the solemn oath she had pledged in the darkened study, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.

"I never did leave you Father," she whispered to the silent room, "I didn't have to. You left me before I had a chance to… to help you, to save you."

A single droplet escaped her flushed cheek, a glistening pearl against ebony. The sight released a torrent of emotion and even as she brushed the moisture away, fresh streams formed, meandering along the defined pathways and scarring her heart as they fell noiselessly, blurring the delicate designs into unfathomable shapes, indecipherable forms. Familiarity bent heavily against the sudden gust of Uncertainty that coursed through her faculties, blowing painfully across her soul. And just as she had that miserable morning, when the sun itself had been smothered by the forbidding clouds, when the rain had dissolved her unending tears, seeping so deeply into her dress that the fabric had clung to her shaking form and the colour seemed to stain her skin with its darkness, she found herself questioning her father's advice.

The wisdom of maturity had added a new meaning to his words and yet with an almost childlike fear she still withdrew from them. The icy shell that had been erected that afternoon, that had so long encompassed her heart, protecting her against the harsh adversity of reality, the grief, the loss, seemed poised to shatter beneath a single glance, a single touch; the threat was inescapable and Fear roamed freely in its wake.

Her return to Colorado had released her hitherto fettered mind but her heart had clung to its shield, a security that blanketed her emotions, comforted her during the loneliness of the endless nights and kept her standing tall as she weathered the continued scorn, the frank disapproval. Yet even as she had rebuked the concern, the tender embraces, determined to continue her charade of self sufficiency she had not been able to deny the solace those arms had brought, the faith that had supported her unceasingly, the tranquility reflected in those mysterious windows, an unction to her soul. Though her mind still recoiled from the thought of relinquishing its reign on Emotion, foreboding only further pain and hurt, a sudden recklessness had seized her. She longed for freedom, for release. For too long had her heart lain dormant, oblivious to the turbulent ocean of sentiment, the anguish and pleasure that kneaded the soul, moulding it with the knuckles of Intensity, distorting it almost beyond recognition and yet suffusing it with strength, a flinty resilience that withstood the test of time.

Wordlessly she rose from her position. In a mere moment she had discarded the shroud of Restraint and as the final crystals fell from her disguise, a slow smile spread over her face. The rhythm began to reverberate heavily against her chest and she welcomed it.

Her mind toyed with the idea of simply following the path, pursuing the beaten track into the darkness, into nothingness. Rationality immediately spoke of responsibility, of the children, the chores awaiting her at home. Yet the shadows called to her, the deadened silence promising escape, the gentle rustle of the leaves in the breeze entreating her to follow, to retreat into sanctuary.

Biting down hard on her lip, the same recklessness that had overwhelmed her in town, rose thick again in her throat, filling her mind and obliterating all trace of coherent thought.

A sudden flare of bronze whistled against the fading light as she spurred her horse onwards, bowing her head to the approaching twilight as she entered the solitude of the wood.

Her light tread on the porch instantly caught his attention and his eyes flickered open. His heart began to race as he silently rose, resolutely ignoring the protest of his now stiffened and seized muscles. His back fell heavily against the wall as he stood, unsteady beside the fireplace. His breath seemed to catch against the Hope rising in his chest as slowly the handle turned and the creak of the wooden door betrayed her entrance. Bursts of copper filled his vision as a ray of fading sunlight fell on her shoulders, bouncing off the mass of curls cascading down her back. A small smile cracked his chiseled physiognomy and his eyes softened into an azure haze as he traced her uncertain steps, reveling in the awe that marked her features. Hidden by the deepening shadows, he waited longingly, willing her to meet his gaze.

A shuffling close behind her surprised her and she turned hastily, a guilty flush rising to her cheeks. Peering into the growing darkness, her eyes widened in surprise as she noted the familiar form before her. Yet he appeared different, suspended almost as if in a dream, his eyes lustrous and an easy smile lightening his face. The contours of concern, of sadness that seemed to habitually mar his features had faded and a mask of serenity had descended in its place. Her brow creased in consternation and she approached him cautiously, uncertain of how to proceed.

"Sully," she called softly, stepping towards him, "are you alright?"

He heard her approach him, the clatter of her heeled boots against the wooden floor resounding in his ears as her intoxicating scent drifted across the close air, engulfing his senses. She was barely feet from him now and he could almost see the laughter dancing in her eyes as she leant back, raising her hand to rest against his arm. Time surrendered its alacrity as he gently reached out and grasped her small hand in his own. They were lost, hidden together in the abyss of eternity, while Destiny wove the ribbons around their hearts, uniting them as one.

"Sully?" she called again, reaching out to rouse him from his seeming stupor, "Sully?"

The touch splintered his consciousness and his heart contracted painfully as his glance suddenly fell on the shuttered windows before him. The light, the life had dissipated and a callous chill emanated in its stead, engulfing his form in a frozen cast as the shadows seemingly mocked his misery with acrid venom. Desolation returned triumphant, dousing out the embers of Memory that lingered still in the aching chasms of his mind and whispering menacingly of the sheer loneliness that threatened his very sanity.

As though burned, he hastily pulled away from her touch, his gaze dropping to the dusty planks, shamefully hiding the tears that seared against the lids sealed resolutely against Reality.

"Sully, I…."

Her words faltered as he brushed off her hand, turning away from her, his countenance inscrutable.

"What are ya doin' here?" he asked, his tone harsh and cracking with unchecked grief.

"I…I was just passing…the house looked…I just…I don't know…."

The crimson rose again in her cheeks as she struggled to explain the inexplicable desire to explore the house, to discover the secrets that seemed to cry out from within its walls.

"I'm sorry Sully," she concluded contritely, "I didn't mean to intrude."

Her response however barely registered in his mind. The delicate circle had caught his eye and gently he reached out, running a finger tentatively over the brushed leather, allowing the white feathers to fall silently against his palm. The testament to their marriage hung limp in his hand, the unique gift now reduced to a mere reliquary. With a sigh he lifted it from its hook and folding it carefully, plunged it into the depths of his pocket. It didn't belong here anymore; neither did he.

"Its fine Michaela," he stated neutrally, finally turning to face her, "you weren' intrudin'."

"I didn't know anyone would be here," she said quickly, "or I'd never have come in."

"Like I said, it don't matter," he replied, "after all this house…."

He swallowed hard against the rising torment, unable to continue.

"It's beautiful…." she murmured, moving to gaze more fully at the now darkened structure, delighting in the exquisite craftsmanship.

"It's yours," he managed to choke out after a moment's silence, "I…"

"What?" she gasped, turning once more to face him, disbelief reflected in her lineaments, "Mine?"

"Ours," he amended quietly, "for when…"

A bleak expression instantly marked her features as the implications of his statement suddenly became clear.

"For when we got married," she completed softly. His silent nod of confirmation drew inexplicable tears and she turned away, unable to meet his glance. The atmosphere in the room seemed to alter subtly beneath her gaze and light crept forth, beacons that illuminated her house, her home, and surrounded her with Emotion that clutched painfully at her heart. Every beam, every stone lain with such faith, such devotion that it shook her being with its intensity, an implacable witness to his commitment, his love.

"I….I don't know…. what to say" she whispered, the words spilling from her heart, "I wish…that I could remember…."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he turned her towards him and gently rubbed the moisture from her cheeks.

"I know…" he replied, stoically suppressing his own turmoil, "it's gunna be alright."

"How…." began Michaela sadly, "how can you keep saying that?"

"Cos I have faith," he stated simply, "I have faith in you."

A hesitant smile pulled at her lips as she met the resolute gaze before her.

"Thank you Sully," she said softly, "thank you…for this…for everything."

"Will you join us for dinner," she continued in response to his silent acknowledgement, "I know the children would love it."

"What about you?"

Blushing at the unexpected response, she stepped away from him and walked quickly towards the door. Gripping the handle with a suddenly trembling hand she took a deep breath and turned slightly to meet the expectant gaze.

"I'd like that too."


	23. Chapter 23

_**Chapter 23:**_

The final remnants of darkness fled as the rosy beams filtered through the inky sky, seeking refuge instead beneath the ancient oaks that slowly unfurled, shaking the sleep from their branches as they rose to greet the dawn. A fine dew had settled, coating the woodland floor with a misty sheen that spread an icy chill in its wake; and yet he did not stir. Fatigue was etched deeply in his lineaments and the reddened rims bore testament to the tears that had fallen uncontrollably through the seemingly endless night. As the sky lightened beneath his gaze, the final cinders of Hope that had lingered in his heart, smouldering still amidst the gentle breeze of Faith, were doused out, acrid ashes that deadened his heart and poisoned his mind. With a single, desolate glance at the eternity before him, he rose and swiping furiously at the moisture on his cheeks, turned from the light that seemed to mock him with its mere presence, and retreated further into the shadows, into the darkness. It was over.

It was with a highly pre-occupied air that the small family sat down to dinner. Her heart had been inexplicably heavy since her arrival from town and despite her best efforts to divert her attention, to concoct highly plausible reasons for his absence, she simply couldn't convince herself nor rein her imagination that continued to resist her rational judgment.

"_He's always there,"_ she thought, _"even if it's just to see the children before school or to let us know he won't be there for dinner…to help... He wouldn't just leave…there must be something wrong….he promised…"_

A heavy blush rose to her cheeks as she considered the implications of her thoughts. Her mind reeled at how much she had come to rely on him, how much she valued his opinion, how much he meant to her; yet she had warily conceded a portion of her soul to him and had been met only with reverence, affection and respect. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her suddenly racing pulse, she gazed around the table. Her brow furrowed in consternation as she noted the bowed heads, the food lying on the plates, untouched, except for where a listless fork had chanced to stray.

"I know it's not perfect," she began in a light hearted manner, attempting to draw the children into conversation, "but it's not as burnt as yesterday."

Startled by her mother's voice, Colleen looked up, hastily abandoning her thoughts. Visibly shaking off her despondency she assumed a half smile and mastered her own emotions enough to reply.

"It's aint that Ma…" she said quietly, "I guess I just aint hungry."

Noting her pallor and the light that failed to reach her eyes, Michaela slowly replaced her fork.

"Is everything alright?" she queried, casting a glance at the siblings who had followed suit and finally abandoned their dinner.

"Just a headache," replied Colleen quickly, "I think I might go lay down for a while."

"Well if you're sure that's all," said Michaela as her daughter rose from the table, "I'll come check on you in a while."

Watching the receding form disappear behind the curtain, she sighed softly, her mind instantly troubled. Chancing a look at her youngest, she was surprised to see an equally dejected expression marking his usually exuberant features whilst Matthew remained silent, considering the opposing wall with undue deliberation.

"Brian," she called gently, rising from her seat to kneel beside him, "is something the matter?"

"No," came his neutral response, meeting her eyes for only an instant before his gaze dropped back to his plate, "I just don't feel too good."

Extending her hand, Michaela felt his forehead in concern.

"I'm fine Ma."

The young boy struggled under her touch and she withdrew, placing a finger beneath his chin instead and directing his gaze back to her own.

"You can tell me you know," she entreated, "perhaps I can help."

"You can't," replied Brian bleakly after a somewhat prolonged silence, his saddened eyes meeting the loving pair before him in quiet desperation. "I wish…."

"What," asked Michaela curiously, "what do you wish?"

"Nothin'," said Brian quickly, shrugging his shoulders, "it's nothin'."

"Matthew," he called suddenly, turning to his brother, "can I come help ya brush down the horses?"

"Sure," replied Matthew, rising from his seat, "I could use a hand."

"We'll be in the barn if ya need us," he spoke over his shoulder as he ushered Brian towards the door. Just as they reached the threshold, Brian turned to his older brother, the tears threatening to spill from his young eyes and grief numbing his voice.

"I wish she remembered."

The fire had died down in the grate but she had not the heart to revive it. The homestead had fallen quiet yet she was filled with restlessness, an agitation that tortured her mind and offered no respite despite her fatigued state. The inexplicable behavior of the children at dinner had heightened the disquiet that had plagued her soul since she had returned from town and now in the increasing darkness, she paced the confines of the room, desperately seeking solace in the continued movement. Yet the walls seemingly contracted around her, encaging her heart with inextricable bands and smothering her with Shadows that entangled her mind in a spectrum of Emotion and Memory. She longed for freedom, for release. She needed him.

A muffled sound instantly arrested her steps. Not wanting to wake the children, she sighed deeply and pulled open the drawer. Sleep would be a stranger to her wandering mind but perhaps she could lose herself in the familiar pages of Apathy, wile away the long hours till sunrise in the languid company of Monotony.

Even as she reached for the heavy binding, her fingers contacted the softness, running cautiously over the brushed hide. Eyes widening in surprise she lifted the bundle from the darkened depths and retreating into a chair, proceeded to untie the thin strap that hid the contents from her sight. Curiosity overwhelmed Reason as the knot loosened and the leather covering fell open in her hands. The heady scent of wood smoke engulfed her senses, embracing her with its vibrance as her gaze drifted dazedly across the intricate design, her fingers tracing a similar course yet lingering momentarily over the white feathers. Shapes, smoky forms erupted beneath her trembling hands, tendrils that wove around her frozen form as the words spilled from her heaving heart, echoing dimly in the forgotten chasms of her mind.

_The sunlight bounced off the ebony locks and she turned to see the light emulated in those familiar eyes…the warmth, the life. _

"_For your union with Sully. It has brought many happy suns over my lodge with Cloud Dancing."_

_Her heart swelled at the words and she held the precious gift closer, her tear filled gaze reflecting the understanding her words alone seemed wholly inadequate to express. The small bundle was more than a gift, it was a legacy…_

_Her footsteps echoed across the wooden floor as she wandered aimlessly into the empty room, gaze fixed on the delicate circle held in her hand. Her heart was raw with Loss and she could not control the lone tear that traced its way noiselessly down her cheek. Swallowing hard against the rising grief, she looked up, searching for that place where she would always see it, see it and remember… _

Yet as the sunlight began to fade and the darkness reached out to enfold her once again, a myriad of thoughts blazed across her mind, skeins of Emotion that tangled together even as she fought desperately to unravel the Confusion that was rapidly ensnaring her faculties. Gripping her head in both hands, she fought to still the waves that churned and crashed against the craggy boundaries of her sensibility, drowning her soul in the cavernous ocean of the Past.

The white feathers dropped silently to the floor, forgotten, as Memory forcibly assumed command of Consciousness; she was powerless to stop it.

_The azure blue had darkened into pools of cobalt and she met his gaze warily, fearful of losing herself in the intensity of those hitherto unexplored depths. Gratitude rose like a beacon within her and she stepped forward, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder as she lifted up. Her lips barely brushed the cool softness of his cheek yet she pulled away, suddenly unable to master her heart as his scent filled her senses. A light rose in the eyes before her and they grew lustrous, glowing embers against the night sky. Her eyes slid shut as she sensed him close the distance between them, their lips barely a breath apart…_

_Her heart stilled as she absorbed the vision of the battered form. Blackened bruises obscured the familiar features and traces of blood lingered still across the contours of his chin and jaw. Tears welled in her eyes as she ran the cloth carefully over the cuts scattered across his brow, dampening the lids that hid the gentle gaze from her sight. A tear escaped the rigid control and dripped onto the flushed cheek. With a shudder she tenderly wiped it away, biting her lip against the fear, the grief that threatened to overwhelm her, even as her mind cried out for him to hold on, to just hold on…_

_Extending her hand, she grabbed his, knotting their fingers in an unyielding grip. The shadows hid his features from her and as Emotion threatened release, she directed her gaze to their hands, interlocked and raised as if in prayer. The small crystal nestled against his skin, emanating a celestial light against the seemingly impenetrable darkness of the cell. Her heart ached as she recalled the pride, the joy, with which she had accepted the simple token of his affection, accepted his promise. As if sensing her thoughts, he slowly lowered his head and placed a lingering kiss to the band. _

"_I love you," he whispered, his voice cracking with the depth of his sentiment, "forever Michaela."_

"_Sully I'll get you out of here," she vowed, raising his chin to meet her defiant gaze, "I love you."_

_The train shuddered beneath her yet she refused to break the connection, the fury coursing through her veins halting her movement. _

"_I asked you a question" she stated in a steely tone._

"_Why'd I come?" he retorted, the venom behind her statement splintering his heart with an icy shard, "Because…"_

"_Because?" she repeated, the ire in her voice barely suppressed. _

"_Because I love you."_

_The words had escaped his control and hung now, suspended in the deafening silence that fell between them. Her eyes widened, the wrath dissipating as her heart was tossed mercilessly in the storm raging within her. _

_The sudden jostle tipped her frozen form and with a start she fell forwards. Yet he instantly reached out, bracing her arms with his own. Breathing ragged, she dared to meet his gaze and as she raised her eyes, her heart momentarily ceased in its rhythm. The hoods that had so long masked his glances had finally been lifted and for the first time, she saw beyond the pain, the hurt, into the very depths of his soul. She saw his love. She saw herself. _

Night advanced, extending its frigid arms to wrap lovingly around the crumpled form. It shivered against the temperate embrace, nestling closer into the darkness, as a child seeking comfort from preternatural fears. A thin hand rose to rub away the moisture from the heavily flushed cheeks, yet it paused, lingering instead along the slender neck, tracing its way slowly down to finger the thin chain.

The chiming of the small clock above the mantelpiece broke the hitherto protracted silence and the darkened eyes darted anxiously to the embossed numerals. Stumbling in haste, the figure rose and hurried to the door. The lock gave easily beneath the practiced touch and without a backward glance, the form pelted into the darkness, a pale ghost momentarily visible against the trees before it was lost in the darkness, swallowed by the lengthening shadows.


	24. Epilogue

_**Epilogue:**_

Her boots pounded against the cracked earth as she ran, hurtling through the wooden glen as her heart called out piteously into the darkness. She was barely cognisant of her movements yet her feet followed a well remembered path, a path to sanctuary. An involuntary cry broke from her lips as a stray branch split the skin across her cheek but even as the thin trickle of blood blossomed against the pallor, she hurried on, delving further into the darkness.

His head rested heavily in his hands, pale, sick with inanition and shivering wretchedly against Night's chill. His heart seared open with each passing minute, striking his soul with such intensity that it sapped him of his strength, forcing him further into Desolation's welcome clutches.

A sudden rustling behind him drew his attention and his hand moved instinctively to his knife as he rose unsteadily to his feet, head swimming from sheer exhaustion. Eyes fixed on the knot of trees before him, he waited.

The now discernable footsteps drew closer and given the lateness of the hour, he lowered his hand in confusion. Stepping forward to meet the undoubtedly lost wanderer, his features blanched as he noted the bedraggled figure emerging from the shadow of the oaks to stand before him.

For several moments he merely stared, losing himself in the mismatched windows before him. His heart was thrown into tumult as he gazed, his voice beyond his mastery. She couldn't be here, not now.

She moved towards him, rousing him from his reverie.

"Michaela," he murmured, "what are ya doin' here? Is something wrong?"

Wordlessly, she continued to close the distance between them, a fire dancing in her eyes that threatened to extend and consume him in its midst. Breaking away from her glance, he noticed the crimson staining her cheek. "You're hurt," he said, brow furrowing in concern, "what's goin' on? Mi…"

A finger against his lips stemmed the flow of words and he reluctantly met the passionate gaze before him.

Smiling slightly, she wrapped her slender arms around his shoulders. Turning her cheek to rest against his, she raised herself up and whispered close to his ear.

"I love you"

His eyes widened, barely registering her purposeful expression before her lips smothered his and abandoning all reserve, she kissed him.

Disbelief made him struggle against her advances, yet she tightened her grip, denying him release, urging him onwards until finally, unable to resist her any longer, he succumbed to his desire and kissed her back. Nights of unending misery, days of impenetrable loneliness; the emotion poured from both hearts, melding the two souls as they came together, defying the darkness that had threatened them for so long.

Gently he pushed her back, his chest rising rapidly as he fought against the cool air, struggling to breathe, as if for the first time. Clasping her hands in his own, he turned his gaze to her flushed face, questions in his eyes.

"Michaela," he breathed, "is it…is this…?"

Smiling at his trepidation, she took a deep breath before replying.

"I love you Sully," she said softly, "I loved you all along. Even when I couldn't remember, I knew. I could feel you, like a shadow in my mind."

"You remember…" repeated Sully quietly, releasing her hands. Doubt rose thick once again in his mind; in the wake of such misery, the happy reality seemed incomprehensible, a mere phantom that would once again vanish with the first streaks of dawn.

As if she sensed his retreat, Michaela reached for his hands, grasping them tightly in her own. Resolution filling her heart, she forced him to meet her glance. She was not going to let go, not this time.

"I remember," she stated, her tone reflecting utmost sincerity, "I love you. Please, Sully..."

The sudden chill against his skin startled his senses and he looked down, his heart heaving as the light scattered before his eyes.

"Will you marry me?" she asked, a delicate blush rising in her cheeks. At his continued silence, she bit her lip, fighting back the uncertainty.

"There's still time…." she whispered, "that is…if you'll have me."

His fist closed over the band and raising his eyes to meet hers, an elated smile broke across his marble features. Reaching out, he wordlessly enfolded her in a fierce embrace, burying himself in the long locks, inhaling deeply her singular scent, each breath a Renewal, Life.

As the moisture fell against his shoulder, he pulled back slightly and brushed the pearls away tenderly with his thumbs. Reaching for her left hand, he met her gaze for the last time. The slight smile sealed the promise and carefully, he slid the ring onto her finger. For a moment, he paused, merely gazing at the crystal nestled against her skin, before he raised her hand to his lips.

"I love you."

The words broke from his lips as her arms came around him to embrace him once again and he welcomed her readily with equal fervour.

"I'm not dreamin' am I?" he half-teased, "you're really here, aren't ya?"

Her laughter pierced the solitude of the night as she rested her head happily against his shoulder.

"I'm here Sully," she whispered, "always and forever."

"Ha ho."

The couple turned at the familiar voice, eyes widening in incredulity as the cherished friend stepped from the shadows.

"Cloud Dancing!" exclaimed Sully, releasing his hold on Michaela to greet his brother, "what are ya doin' here?"

"The spirits spoke to me of your union," explained Cloud Dancing sedately, "of the path that you now must walk, together. I am here to help you begin this journey. "

"I…we'd be honoured Cloud Dancing" said Sully meeting the wizened gaze with understanding. Smiling at the hesitant hue that rose in Michaela's cheeks even as she nodded her assent, he leaned closer towards her.

"Ya ready?"

Two weeks later, Michaela would walk down the aisle and before her family and friends, pledge herself eternally to the one man who had never ceased to support her, to comfort her, to love her; her best friend, her soul mate.

Yet this night, as the moon rose somber and silent against the mist ridden sky and the gentle breeze whispered through the slumbering trees, the ribbons of Destiny unfurled and weaving nimbly around the motionless forms, bound together two hearts, two minds and two souls; each curl knotted with the promise of Eternity, even as the young stars arose, shining sleepily through the scattered clouds to bless the union. This night.

**The End**

_Please note that I do not own any of the Dr Quinn characters & am only borrowing them for the purposes of this story. _


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